


Lost Star

by gentlearmor



Series: Legacy of the Star [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Child Abuse, Gen, Slow Burn, a shield and a steward walk into a strip club..., as always tags will be added as necessary, but it's a slow burn on reflection, i didn't realize it was a slow burn, it's the Argentum household soooo, no beta never beta, questionable sanity, spousal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-12-17 14:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentlearmor/pseuds/gentlearmor
Summary: Noctis enters the Crystal far sooner than he's supposed to, and not by his own will, or his own understanding.(Alternate Universe)(As with other works of mine: The rating may vary, and if there are warnings for a specific chapter, I'll put them in the top notes.)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you’re here because you’ve read my other, as of right now, unfinished works for FFXV, I apologize. A lot has happened in the last months since I updated on those, and I’ve lost sight of what I was doing. Rather than force myself to do something, and thus write more terribly than I already do, I’m trying to get back into writing in other ways. It’s not just my fanfic that’s suffered, but my original writing, as well.
> 
> As such, this isn’t spectacularly written, but I appreciate you being here.
> 
> The cliff notes: lost a job, gained 3 kittens, lost 1 of those kittens to illness, gained a job, lost my eldest sister to cancer.
> 
> So.
> 
> You know.
> 
> I like to think that the kittens’ sister had to go so she’d be there to greet my sister.
> 
> By the way, the kitten’s name was Iris, her one brother is Gladio, and their uncle is Noctis.
> 
> On that note, let’s write something dark. There just aren’t enough fanfics punishing Noctis for existing.

The day King Regis went mad, the world felt the shock.

Things had been great for a long time, and it only got better when, in an attempt to protect Tenebrae from annexation by Niflheim, Regis proposed marriage to Queen Sylva. She accepted, allowing for the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive to expand substantially through the Tenebraean forces. While it was impossible to reach the Wall out so far, at least they would have that to work with.

On the insistence of council and her people, Sylva took her children to Insomnia to live with her new husband. As it was a political one, between two good allies and friends, they never shared a bed together. While she was still Queen and could usurp control from Regis, when it came to Tenebrae, she happily passed the reigns to him on loan, and took to her duties as Oracle, and training her daughter in the ways of the Oracle full time.

The Prince Regent, Noctis, stayed as heir due to the Crystal only being willing to acknowledge him due to the prophecy tied to his birth, and Sylva’s son would one day take back the throne of Tenebrae. Ravus would function as something of a feudal lord under Noctis, unless the threat of Niflheim had ceased, in which case Tenebrae would become independent again. That was a promise made not by Regis, but by the six year old prince, who was just delighted to have more young people around him and his newly-appointed advisor, steward and future tactician, Ignis.

But then, two years later, a terrifying incident struck. With his step-brother in an boarding academy, and his step-sister away with her mother, he asked for a trip out to the forests for a day. His best friend was taking exams for his training of duty to Noctis, and couldn’t go with him. However, he had a number of Crownsguard and bodyguards with him, as well as his nanny, and all should have gone smoothly. And, for the majority of the day out, it did. Right up until they were headed home in the evening, and the Empire made it known that they knew how to break the Wall just enough to thrust a daemon of great strength inside, and it nearly ended the prince’s life, and ended with his entire caravan of caretakers and bodyguards slaughtered before Regis could arrive with his own Crownsguard to end the beast.

Between modern medicine, the healing gifts of the Crystal, and the power of the Oracle, Noctis was eventually brought back from near death. The blades of the beast had not only gone through his chest, but it had nicked his heart. He died several times merely in the rush to return to the Citadel, and only magic sustained him just enough to keep him from leaving the mortal world.

Something in that journey changed the good king.

Or, perhaps, it was the coma that followed, or the extreme physical and mental therapy he had to watch his son endure, but whatever it was, it changed him.

At first, the changes were subtle. A lockdown of those under the Wall and in Tenebrae to start, and new security that seemed just far too inconvenient for everyone. Nearly successfully preventing Sylva from returning to Tenebrae to help calm the unrest the new rules caused. The requirement that Ravus and Lunafreya stay with him, and that Ravus was to not leave Insomnia, while Lunafreya was to not leave the Citadel. The only reason they obeyed was because they didn’t see these as signs. No one did, in the moment.

But then, the day the magnitude of his mental switch came to pass.

Noctis was still on a cane that day, and had gone to have a private discussion with his father in his father’s study. Luna commented she felt the gods there that day, and that she theorized that Regis—as the father of the Chosen King—was likely communing with them, and called for Noctis to speak to them as well.

But what started so quiet, so innocuous, turned into Regis dragging Noctis through the Citadel as the boy struggled and stumbled, having to be righted on his feet repeatedly by the king. He was followed by progressively more of those close to him, who were trying to get him to stop and talk to them, in a desperate attempt to get him to release the still-healing child.

“Regis, I don’t know what’s going on, but we should sit and talk about this!” Cor Leonis pointed out as he paced after Regis quickly.

“Your son can’t walk like this,” Clarus Amicitia pointed out strongly, with a gentle hand on the panicking Ignis Scientia. It was only he who kept Ignis from forgetting himself and pleading aloud. As it was, he left it to the adults. “What happened in there, Reggie?”

“This involves no one,” Regis replied simply, staring ahead of him and barely aware of Noctis pawing at his arm.

“Dad—what did I do—?” he whispered up at him, always the quiet and secluded child ever since the attempt on his life. His father didn’t answer him.

As they got to the floor of the throne room, it became clear that Regis’s step-children had been called. Ravus and Lunafreya were protective of Noctis, as well as Ignis, and the young steward was so happy to see them when they emerged from another elevator hall from across the foyer leading to the throne room.

Ravus ran around and stood tall between Regis and the throne room doors. “Sir, what’s going on?” he pleaded respectfully, holding up his hands to try to usher Regis to stop and listen to those around him.

But the king didn’t stop. He latched onto Ravus’s shoulder with his free hand, and pushed him off to the side with a force he’d never used before, and the Crownsguard at the throne room doors opened them for him, despite wearing expressions of worried confusion.

Within the throne room, a baffling sight to even Lunafreya awaited. Up, above the king’s seat, the Crystal was glowing vibrantly, with wisps of white light emanating from its opening, and almost heralding for attention. That light trailed and spun and dipped down to the presentation floor, where so many dignitaries and military officials had spoken atop in the past, presenting to the king and the king’s council for centuries.

Noctis appeared terrified when he looked inside, as if he was seeing something no one else was. “No—Nonono, please—_dad_—”

Cor rushed forward as Regis reached the stairs leading to the presentation floor, to grab his arm and attempt to wrench his grip from his son. It was a move only Cor and Clarus could get away with, not because of their stations, but because they were Regis’s friends.

The minute he grabbed hold of the king’s arm, however, Regis stopped and looked at him with a look darker, grimmer, more serious than anything he’d ever worn in the past. “Unhand your _king_,” he sneered. The vitriol was disarming, even to the Immortal, who took a step back in astonishment.

Regis proceeded up to the presentation floor, no longer helping Noctis when he stumbled and tripped, effectively dragging him up the stairs. The bruises of hitting those stone and marble edges were quickly appearing on the boy’s legs.

His father paid no mind, gazing up to the Crystal. He was silent for several seconds, before pushing Noctis out in front of him. “Do what must be done,” he ordered, stepping away from his son.

His son, who might have calmed down, if not for the fact that those ribbons of light began to snake around his small frame, and lift him into the air, pulling him for the opening of the Crystal.

“Are you mad?! What are you doing?!” Clarus demanded then, horrified.

“Your Majesty, he’s not to go in like this!” Luna pleaded. She attempted to rush for Regis, but was grabbed by Clarus.

The four primarily fighting the king, plus the little boy in tow, all the way there were so mortified because they all understood the prophecy of the Chosen King, albeit to varying degrees. What they all did know was that Noctis was supposed to approach the Crystal as an adult, in his own time. To force him to it would end in nothing, at best, and possible catastrophe at worst. That didn’t even account for pushing him to it _as a child_. An injured, extremely traumatized child.

There was nothing to do. Although Ravus wanted to run for his little step-brother, to try to grab him away from the glowing binds that pulled the screaming, pleading child in, he knew there would be no breaking them. Not even by the children of the Oracle, or the Oracle herself, would be able to counteract that. Possibly Lunafreya could have, if she was older, stronger, and already holding the title of Oracle, as she was destined to be the Oracle of the Chosen King, after all. Her prophecy of strength and dominion over the gods was impressive.

As it was, there was truly nothing that could be done. Luna, sympathetic to all, hurried to little Ignis and dropped to her knees, to pull him in for a hug. Although he was quiet and holding back tears like a boy three times his age, he was doing so only just, and the hug was a welcome one. The way his body collapsed against the older girl’s made it clear how distressed he was.

Regis didn’t move, didn’t look away from what he had just done, even as Noctis’s struggling form sank into the Crystal, and out of sight. It was only after his pleading, begging, terrified screams dulled and then died out completely, even the echoes they left in the throne room’s shined halls, did he turn to look at those standing below.

“What have you _done_?” Clarus hissed through locked teeth. “Have you gone completely _insane_?”

“You might well have ruined everything!” Ravus stepped in, pointing at Regis angrily. “That boy is the only hope that we’ve got against the Starscourge, the prophecy clear in his victory! But only under the conditions strictly laid out by Bahamut himself!”

“He was supposed to be able to make the decision himself, as a king,” Cor reminded sternly, unhappy, but not snapping or yelling as Clarus and Ravus were. He looked to Luna. “Princess, is that why he was pulled into it? Because it wasn’t his choice? I didn’t think it would react to him at all until it was time, and he was ready?”

“As did I,” she replied as she rubbed Ignis’s back, watching Cor with sorrowful eyes. “But truly, we have been gleaning what we think with what we know. I’m afraid it’s never been clear how the Crystal would bestow its powers unto the King of Light.” As always, the thirteen-year-old spoke with the eloquence of a queen.

“Enough,” Regis snapped, his voice thundering through the massive hall and silencing the group. “In the Crystal’s keep, he will slumber until it deems him ready to emerge. He will slumber, and be safe within its confines. Isn’t that what you want? For him to be completely and totally safe? I believe that is a concern we all share.”

“What if he’s deemed unworthy?” Clarus asked. “Because he’s too young to understand?”

“To be unworthy means one has a corrupted soul,” Regis snapped.

“It is true,” Luna said quietly. “He is but a child. A child’s soul cannot be corrupted, no matter the agony one might endure.” She gently pet at Ignis’s hair, and took to whispering consolations to him.

“We will now wait,” Regis advised, not thinking twice as the glow emanating from the dark polish in front of him faded, indicating the light from the Crystal dimmed and ceased. “In the meantime, the safety of Lucis and Tenebrae remain our highest priority. To do this, things must change, and they will change starting today.”

“What did the Astrals show you, Regis?” Ravus asked after a short silence from all present. “This isn’t like you—”

“Question me again and you will see exactly what I am like,” Regis commanded. He turned from them to ascend the stairs, to the throne. “Leave me. I will call for those of you I need once it’s time to begin.”

The king went mad that day, and no one knew the answer as to why. It would be a long time before they would know if the reason was a king shown too much, and rife with worry and lacking an answer in order to act appropriately, or if he had simply hit a breaking point in his mind, and was lost to them forever.

The only thing they would come to learn was only time would tell.


	2. Chapter 2

~*~ONE WEEK LATER~*~

In the days that followed Regis’s betrayal of his son, he was merciful to Ignis Scientia, and seemingly Ignis alone. His step-children were far from abused, but their movements were so restricted, held under heavy watch. Ignis had honestly thought his time as steward was done. If Noctis—_when_ Noctis returned, he would be the king, or… at least ready to fulfill the role, so he would need someone worthy of such a position, would he not?

Even his uncle was convinced it was over. “It’s a shame, as I haven’t a clue who you could be stationed with, who doesn’t already have their own steward at this time,” lamented the elder Scientia. It felt like a knife to the heart for a boy who was so proud to continue the tradition of his family. They had served among the ranks of Lucis’s nobles and royalty, and the allies of Lucis as well, for so long, and now…

But Regis seemed to know the boy’s worries. It came a week later, and came in the form of him being summoned to the throne room. As the boy, working on turning twelve in just mere days, arrived at the presentation floor, the king gazed down at him, his expression cold at that moment.

“I hear you sit outside, like a puppy awaiting its owner,” Regis commented as his greeting. Ignis was too young to feel too terribly insulted by it.

“I do,” the boy replied quietly, the acoustics of the throne room being the only reason his voice could be heard.

“And that you’ve missed your schooling every day now for the last week.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Ignis admitted, ever honest.

“I wish you wouldn’t.” The commented finally provoked Ignis into looking up at Regis, surprised. “Noctis will need you when he returns, and if you ignore all your studies, you won’t be fit to stand at his side.”

“I—I assumed…”

“What, that you would be replaced given the change?” Regis questioned. He snorted and shook his head. “Of course not. You are dear to Noctis. Even if he’s struggled showing that to you since his dire injuries were dealt, I can say with confidence you are, and that you need to be ready for his return, via all resources made available to you. And, when the day is over in here, if you wish to spend time here, with the Crystal, you may. I’ll advise the Crownsguard.”

Ignis was so stunned. He was a boy that never assumed he was entitled to anything, and asked for nothing. Regis had always been incredibly kind to him, ensuring he would always have access to Noctis, even when Noctis’s attendants and teachers tried to push him out as a ‘distraction to the prince’, or ‘in the way’ because he wasn’t royalty. He’d once overheard Regis reminding them all that not only was Ignis of noble blood, he would one day be their superior, and to mind themselves ‘lest they want to face such a force as that of the king’s confidant.

“…do you… think he can hear, your Majesty…?” Ignis asked hesitantly, afraid of stepping over a line of which he didn’t know the exact location.

“I am uncertain,” Regis answered honestly. “But it wouldn’t hurt if you decide to speak. At worst, he can’t hear you. At best, he can, and will know you’re waiting for him. All I ask is that you mind your time and get plenty of rest. You serve no one but Noctis. In his absence, you prepare and care for yourself.”

“Yes, your Majesty. Thank you very much, your Majesty.”

It didn’t remove the hole left in Ignis’s soul, in his life, that drilled its way into him with the absence of Noctis, but it helped. It gave him hope. The king had to have a good reason for what he did…

…right?

It was unfathomable to the boy taught to give everything of himself to the monarchy he was serving, that perhaps the king truly had lost his mind, and hadn’t actually been thinking about what was truly best for Noctis, after all.

~*~TWO MONTHS LATER~*~

It was late in the evening, and Ignis had been in the throne room for several hours by then, working on homework and occasionally speaking up at the Crystal about the things going on, and what he had been up to. He never liked speaking about himself, particularly to Noctis, wanting all attention on the boy, but what else was there to say when there was no one responding?

True to Regis’s word, Ignis could go there at any time, day or night, and the Crownsguard outside allowed him in. He was unaware of the goings on while Regis was inside, outside of what Prince Ravus and Princess Lunafreya would stop by to tell him. They had been very kind to him, but indeed had their own stewards to care for them, so his trying to insert himself would be rude.

Ignis had no idea of the police state Regis was installing into Insomnia. He didn’t know that people weren’t permitted to leave as they wished any longer, or that some regions of Insomnia were so locked down, some people couldn’t even leave their neighborhoods without written proof of employment elsewhere. Such topics were the topics of those who had reason to go outside. Ignis had no reason to leave the Citadel, so such things weren’t of importance unless spoken about in confidence with him by the prince and princess.

Such a conversation was about to happen, as the doors to the throne room opened, and Ignis lifted his head to gaze down from the presentation floor, where he sat, doing his studies and homework.

Princess Lunafreya entered, holding a small notebook and wearing a soft smile, and quickly started ascending to Ignis. “I’m so glad I was able to find you, Ignis,” she said.

“Princess—” Ignis greeted, moving to stand and bow, but getting waved to stay put.

“I told you it is okay to call me ‘Luna’,” she insisted with a smile. She lowered to her knees once she was near Ignis, and held up the notebook. “So, I was reading this.”

It was then that Ignis recognized the little notebook. Its black cover with golden binding, and childish etches through the black, was something he’d seen Noctis writing in often, but… “That’s Noct’s journal,” he whispered, worried. “Should you have been?”

“I would not normally,” Luna sympathized with Ignis’s worry. “But Ravus and I’ve been trying to find reason behind the king’s decision, looking wherever possible. I only just started reading it, but I found something in here with a great amount of synchronicity to it. Something I think you can do whilst we wait for him.”

“O-Oh?” Ignis asked, dubious. He didn’t exactly believe in things like that.

“About a month after Noctis returned to school, you remember how Pryna went missing whilst going to visit him and see how he was doing?” Ignis nodded. Luna had been terribly worried about the puppy’s whereabouts, even if she was a Messenger. She’d dispatched her, because Noctis was still recovering but had insisted he wanted to go back to school, and Luna was always a bit of a mother hen to her step-brother. “Well, when she returned a week later, she had a little handkerchief wrapped about her leg, with a young man’s name embroidered. Gentiana and I looked him up and found he went to Noctis’s school, so I sent a thank you note, and asked if he was friends with Noctis. I never received a word back from him, but…” She flipped open the notebook to the page she’d been holding with her finger, and then held it out to Ignis.

He took it gingerly, as if his touch would cause damage to the book, which he would see as unforgivable. If they never saw Noctis again, then his last known words laid within that book.

But he did take it, and went to read the entry. The date, he presumed based on what Luna was saying, was a week or two after she sent the letter. The writing, while definitely young, still held the blossoming intelligence of a boy that had spent every day of his life being taught one thing or another. While Ignis’s education was rigorous, Noctis’s education was far more so as the Crown Prince, and very few people seemed to ever recognize that fact. Most his sentence structures were simple, but then there were moments, one could really see that his awareness and intelligence about the world was right where it needed to be for who he was.

‘_There__’s this kid at school that tried to talk to me the other day, but not like the rest. The rest always come up acting like my best friend in the whole world, but you can see they’re just trying to suck up. This kid didn’t have that look. I’ve seen him around. He’s always looking down at his camera or phone, I’m not sure, but he’s the only one that doesn’t stare at me when he goes by. I actually wanted to talk to him before, but the only time I see him, I’ve always got girls acting like sharks around me._

_But this time, I was out where they_ _’re doing all that construction to make the school bigger because of the increase of refugee students, and no one goes back there because the teachers get upset, but they don’t with me. He did, though, and greeted me as he walked over, and tried to step over a construction barrier and fell over it instead. I helped him up (he’s pretty fat, so it was kind of hard to do and hurt my chest some, but that’s not his fault), and wanted to talk to him, but the bell that says lunch is almost through went off, so I had to go._

_Now, I think he__’s trying to figure out ways to talk to me again. I see him out of the corner of my eye, kind of lurking around. He’s probably embarrassed. I don’t know if I should just go talk to him, but if he’s embarrassed, that’d probably make it worse. I’ll just need to try to be extra nice whenever he gets the nerve to talk to me again. Even I know it’s gotta be rough falling in front of me, even though I wish _someone_ at school would just stop seeing me as Prince Noctis__…_’

“You think this is the same boy?” Ignis asked Luna, looking up to her.

“I do,” Luna replied, her expression implying she was going more on intuition than proof. “Word has begun to get out that the Crystal claimed Noctis to begin preparing him,” she explained then. “The news has been on about it for several days after a leak happened, and then the king’s people had to make a statement the following day. If this kind-hearted boy truly wanted to try to befriend Noctis, and Noctis felt the same about the idea, I believe you approaching him and befriending him in the meanwhile would be an excellent idea. A friend ready and waiting for Noctis when he returns, who isn’t royal or noble, and who is his age, not older.”

“I see…” Ignis said slowly. “But I don’t go to public school.”

“I know. I’ve his name and address.” Luna, ever-prepared, pulled a paper from her dress pocket, and laid it delicately atop the notebook Ignis’s math homework was housed at the moment. “Please, consider it. Consider it an opportunity to practice the skills of your role with a gentle soul. Ravus already looked into the boy a bit, and it looks as though he could use a friend, too.”

Ignis wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but it was clear Luna went to a lot of effort to present the idea to him. He suspected she worried about the fact that Ignis had become incredibly isolated, even antisocial, in the last couple of months, and felt he needed someone to care after. Which he did. He had been trained since before he could remember to care after another person, so even Regis’s kind concessions for him ended with him just hoping that he was keeping Noctis company, caring for him in the only way he had left.

“I’ll think about it, Pri—Luna,” Ignis promised, offering Noctis’s notebook back to her.

She smiled softly and took it, saying, “When I’m done, I’ll be happy to bring it to you.”

Ignis shook his head. “No, not right now,” he replied. “Thank you, but… At this time, I’d like to allow him to still have it private. That’s not a comment about you, but I—”

“You’re not ready yet,” Luna finished, smiling and clearly not offended at all. She propped up on her knees, so she could lean forward and gently kiss the top of Ignis’s head, much to his surprise. “I understand. If you become ready, do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you,” Ignis said, sincerely appreciative. “I’ll remember that. And, I promise, I’ll seriously consider your suggestion.”

“Wonderful.” Luna stood then, Ignis holding up a hand for her to balance herself, which she took gratefully. “Try not to stay here to too late,” she advised after a straightening of her skirt. “I’ve heard you stay here to sometimes the wee hours of the morning, and that is not good for you. You need to be at your strongest when Noctis returns.”

She patted Ignis’s head tenderly, then started down the stairs again, to depart from the throne room. Ignis watched her go, his expression going from contemplative but somber, to sad with a wince when he knew she wouldn’t be looking back. At that point, his greatest fear was that he wouldn’t be at his strongest, at his best, when Noctis returned.

~*~ONE MONTH LATER~*~

The world seemed so big at one time. Even though his idea of ‘big’ was already hampered by the fact that he was just nine years old—though he would be ten that year! …in seven months…—it felt like the world had gone from expanding eternally to just a shoebox in size. Police and Crownsguard, even Kingsglaive, were stationed everywhere. No one could do anything they didn’t have written consent for, and that made things horribly complicated when Prompto had just started exercising, trying to jog and get into ship shape to…

…well, he wasn’t sure any longer. He’d been determined to meet Prince Noctis, since it seemed like Princess Lunafreya was imploring him to be her step-brother’s friend in her kind letter to him, and felt he needed to be good enough for Noctis to not see him as anything other than ‘fat’. But without the prince even around any longer, what purpose did he have?

Still, he had some hope that maybe, one day soon, the prince would return and he could try again. They said the Crystal took him to make him strong, which means the Crystal would give him back, right?

Prompto Argentum, age 9 (and nearly-a-half), couldn’t see past his youth to worry what would happen if the prince returned after he graduated school.

So determined, he’d had enough of just jogging up and down his neighborhood street for the last two months since the lockdown reached his part of the city, and he made his way for the Kingsglaive station that was in control of quarantining the people there. Prompto did notice that it seemed that the closer one was to the actual border wall of the city, the more Kingsglaive stations were, while the closer to the Citadel one got, more Crownsguard were station there, with police set up in the in-between. He guessed it made sense.

“Um, excuse me!” he called when he got to the post. One glaive was leaning over, talking through the back window of some really nice looking car, while two others were standing behind her.

The two looked over, but only one broke from the car to approach the boy. “Hello,” he greeted as he moved in. His tone was a lot kinder than Prompto expected. “Is everything alright?”

“Um.” Prompto honestly had imagined being ordered away the minute he was spotted, so he hadn’t bothered to think of how to say anything he wanted to say. “M-May I go to the park?”

“I’m sorry, travel like that’s only allowed on Saturday,” the glaive replied. “You’ll have to wait until—”

“Please,” Prompto interjected. He clamored to pull out his student ID, as if it’d do anything. “I know it doesn’t… it doesn’t look like it, but I wanna go jog, and my home’s street sucks for that.” His hand jutted out at the glaive, a frown on his face. “I only go for fifteen minutes. Please?”

The glaive took the ID to look at it, then looked at Prompto. “…hang on a sec.”

The man ghosted off, back to the other glaives, and Prompto got terribly worried. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. Maybe he should just forget his ID and run home. Was he in trouble?

He clutched his little, digital camera, which was always strapped to his wrist when he did his runs, in both hands nervously, watching as the glaive consulted his comrades. The one at the car took the idea, and then leaned to the window, holding it up to whoever was inside. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but that scared him even more, for a lot of reasons. Did his parents…

The glaives backed up as the car door opened. To Prompto’s surprise, another boy, just a little older than he, stepped out and looked to Prompto. “Prompto Argentum,” he said, his accent sounding Tenebraean, almost. Or maybe High Insomnian, more like… “I’ve been looking for you. You said fifteen minutes?” Prompto nodded stiffly, eyes wide. “Then I’ll wait at your house.” He looked up to the glaives and nodded. “Allow him to the park. It’s alright.”

The one glaive passed the ID back to the one that engaged Prompto, who carted it over to him to return it. “We’ll send out notice that you’re clear to be there,” he said. “You’ll have twenty minutes, but you need to get back here within that time, okay?”

“I—Okay! Thank you!” Prompto said, quickly bowing to the glaives and the boy. “Thank you very much!”

Not wanting to overstay his welcome and jeopardize the allowance, Prompto hustled along to start his very painful jogging. He was a bit distracted, wondering what that boy wanted with him, and why he was willing to wait for him, so his time out wasn’t as beneficial as it normally was, but it meant he came back a little less dirty and exhausted.

Sure enough, that car was parked outside his house, with the boy standing outside it, looking at his phone. As soon as Prompto was close enough to get him to look up, Prompto bowed once again to him. “Th-Thank you for giving me permission,” he panted, still out of breath. He tried so hard, and he had to remember it wouldn’t be overnight that his body would change, though he really wished it would get a _little_ easier…

“Of course,” the boy said, sounding so much older than he looked. He pocketed his phone and turned fully to Prompto. “My name’s Ignis Scientia,” he explained. “I’m the retainer of Prince Noctis.” Prompto’s eyes went wide, and he shot straight from his bowed position. “I’m also in service on occasion to Princess Lunafreya, who sends her regards.”

“I…”

“I’ve become aware that you were attempting to befriend Noctis prior to his… union with the Crystal.”

Prompto frowned and nodded slowly, but then let out a bashful laugh. “Yeah, but lotsa kids do.”

“Noct seemed to believe you had more pure intentions in your approaching him,” Ignis pressed on, much to Prompto’s surprise. Prompto really wasn’t a child that was used to anyone noticing him, unless they were teasing him or bumping into him and apologizing. The fact that Noctis didn’t just think of him as being fat, but rather trying to be actually nice to him, it was mind blowing. “Noctis doesn’t have many friends. I think he would like it fine if he had someone other than those who grew up around him, ready and waiting when he returns, don’t you?”

“R-Really? I—I mean, I think so, but I don’t know him that well. We aren’t in the same class, even.”

“I know.” Ignis looked over at Prompto’s house briefly, then back to the boy. “Would it be alright if we went inside and talked some more about this?”

Prompto nodded quickly. “Y-Yeah! Um, follow me!”

Every inch of Prompto wanted to argue with the agreement. Was he hallucinating? Being an only child, and a latchkey kid to boot, Prompto had a lot of time on his hands to imagine and pretend, and all of this seemed like it stepped right out of Fantasyland.

…well, he supposed there could be worse things his mind could have ended up hallucinating.


	3. Chapter 3

~*~TWO YEARS LATER~*~

“The attack on Tenebrae has left most the ruling class dead, with the status of Queen Sylva Via Fleuret thus far unknown. Witnesses that were able to escape the attack on the palace claim they saw her slain in the throne room, but this is unconfirmed. Stay tuned as more information develops.”

It was a horrific thing, watching something so tragic unfold from hundreds of miles away.

Then 15-year-old Princess Lunafreya stood, watching the television with all the grace and poise she always had, though a shimmer had come to her eyes that indicated she was holding back tears.

To her right, Ignis stood with a grim look on his face as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. It happened so _quickly_.

To her left, Gladiolus Amicitia. The young man who would one day throw himself in front of Noctis, to protect him from any and all danger he could possibly withstand, and new to his duties at the palace as a member of the Junior Crownsguard. He had been simply coming in to introduce himself to Luna and Ignis, when one of Luna’s attendants rushed in and turned on the television.

“How did this happen…?” Ignis finally breathed as he took in the aerial video shots, and satellite footage being broadcast of Tenebrae on fire.

“My dad mentioned that they were planning to dispatch more glaives in a rush today,” Gladiolus said quietly as he stared on as well. “I think they knew this was coming, but thought they had a larger window to work with.”

“So… the king was ready to stop this?” Luna asked quietly, tearing her eyes from the screen to look at the much taller boy.

Gladiolus looked at her as he nodded his head. “Yeah. That’s what my dad implied, anyway.”

“Is there any way you can find out for certain…?” she questioned. When he frowned and looked confused, she turned fully to him. “My brother is no doubt on his way here, with intentions of confronting our step-father about not having sufficient support. If it’s true that the king was attempting to send more protection, but simply misjudged the time, then perhaps Ravus won’t feel the need to pick this fight.” As the days went on, Ravus turned more hostile towards Regis, and Regis became less tolerant of Ravus, and Luna worried what might come of it all.

“Okay, yeah,” Gladiolus agreed. “I’ll find out for you. Or, I’ll try.”

“Trying is all I ask for,” the princess emphasized.

Gladiolus nodded firmly, and bowed to her. “I’ll take my leave, your Highness.”

He turned on his heel, starting for the door, though he slowed when he heard Ignis say, “Pardon, Princess Lunafreya. I’d like a word with him whilst he makes haste.”

Gladiolus resumed his pace once Ignis was at his side, and Ignis only spoke again once they had left Lunafreya’s study. “What a time for introductions,” he commented.

“No kidding. I’m just glad you two didn’t look at me like I was crazy for approaching you.”

“Why would we? You’re the future King’s Shield, after all,” Ignis pointed out.

“Not much a Shield without a King to protect,” Gladiolus pointed out, looking out ahead of them.

“No… I suppose not. And before you ask: No, I’ve no answers as to when he’ll return. I’m afraid it seemed that he was clueless, and he is… insistent that no one ask him these days.”

“Yeah, that’s what my dad says.” When he reached the first elevator call button, in the elevator hall, Gladiolus pushed it, and turned to Ignis. “’All we can do is wait’, he says. On repeat because my little sister has been dying to meet the fabled prince, and trying to explain to her that he was vacuumed into a giant rock hasn’t really gone anywhere.”

“If I ever hear something substantial, I’ll make certain you know, so you can pass it along.” Gladiolus nodded his thanks to that, and moved to step onto the elevator that arrived first for him. “Perhaps, once this all settles down, we should get to talking, Gladiolus,” Ignis suggested, keeping back and clear.

“Sure, on one condition.” Ignis furrowed his brow, and Gladiolus smirked faintly. It was the sort of smirk that said they needed to take their amusement from wherever it came. “Call me Gladio.”

The doors of the elevator closed as he said that, and sealed just behind him doing so. Ignis smirked faintly at that, nodding despite Gladio not being able to see. “Right, then, Gladio,” he murmured, before taking back for Luna. She was going to need company, whether she acted as though she did or not.

***

Although Gladio confirmed—and at a speed that impressed Ignis, no less—that Regis had, in fact, ordered more troops to be deployed to Tenebrae on information that said he would have time to do so, Ravus wasn’t having it. Although Luna called him before he got his car parked in the garage below the Citadel, that didn’t stop him from rushing through the lobby of the throne room, on a mission to reach his step-father and make him know how unhappy he was.

Luna had suspected as much, so she beckoned Ignis and Gladio to go with her to wait in that lobby, and phoned for Cor to meet her as well. They had maintained a decent relationship with Regis thus far, but it felt like it was wearing thin when they misstepped, and she was worried.

“Ravus!” she called when she saw him, leaping to her feet. She hurried from the waiting area across the way, although she had to walk carefully due to her high heels. “Ravus, please do not do what you are about to do!” she implored.

“Your Highness,” Cor called, going past Luna so she wouldn’t rush too fast and possibly hurt herself in the resulting fall. “Confrontation right now will do nothing—”

Unfortunately, even him breaking into a run across that lobby just wasn’t fast enough, as Ravus slammed his hands into the Crownsguard attempting to block his path, and shoved them apart, into the walls on either side of the throne room’s double doors. As they collided with the walls, Ravus slammed the doors open, and stormed into the throne room, making no request to ascend to the presentation floor.

Within, Regis was meeting with his council, which had taken to having almost entirely new faces in the last two years. His aggressive, militaristic revamping of policies had been too much, and anyone attempting to dissuade him from it got removed promptly. Sometimes violently.

All heads turned to the prince as he pushed a presenter out of the way and pointed up at Regis. “This is your fault!” he shouted. “Everything was fine—<I>everything</I> was fine with this marriage-of-alliance of yours, and Tenebrae was safe, until you decided to throw your common sense away!”

“What’s done is done,” Regis advised simply. “Tenebrae has fallen. It’s a good thing you and Lunafreya are here—”

“But our mother is dead! Our throne in the hands of the Empire! Our people enslaved!” Ravus argued, never once calming his volume or rage. “You should have dispatched reinforcements the moment that village on Tenebrae’s border was taken, just as I implored of you! And now you sit here, telling me—oh, it’s a good job you and your sister are here, it’s not as though that’s meaningless when millions are in danger because Tenebrae is too far for them to flee to come here! I want to be part of those who go to fight to get it back, Regis!”

“No.”

The calm finality of that response caught Ravus off guard, and he stepped back one pace. “’No’?” he echoed. “How dare—”

“There will be no attempts to fight for Tenebrae, Ravus. It is lost. I’ve already called for all surviving guards and glaives to return to Lucis.”

Ravus flinched with the emotions that were already boiling within him. “So that’s it, is it?”

“What would you have me do? Further weaken our protection here for a battle that has an outcome already in store?”

“The Oracle is dead! <I>Your</I> Oracle is dead! Tenebrae has fallen! This is your fault—it’s your fault because I don’t see this happening had you not fed your son to that rock!” That sentiment was a disturbing one, only because Ravus had always been respectful of the Crystal. It dovetailed with the duties of the Oracle, who was his mother, and would one day be his sister, both of whom he treasured. If nothing else, it showed how fractured his faith had already been in it since the day Regis inexplicably lost his mind. “The Chosen King is gone, and we haven’t a clue when he’ll return, because he wasn’t ready! He wasn’t even old enough to understand the _meaning_ of his duty to this world, and you fed him to it under the guise of ‘protecting him’, but it’s very likely his mere existence in this world kept bad actors from going to far. But in his absence, and the unknown if we’ll ever even see him again, the daemons will not be the only ones running amok against the innocent of this world. You are _foolish_, and you have lost your _mind_, and you have grown _ungrateful_ to those around you who call you their friend, family, ally.”

“I do hope you’re done now,” Regis answered to all of that, resting back and watching Ravus carefully. “I want to remind you that, with Tenebrae in the hands of the Empire now, your status as heir to the Tenebraean throne has been eliminated. Given the disrespect you are so carelessly tossing my way right now, perhaps it would be best for us to cut ties.”

“_Excuse_ me?” Ravus was taken aback at that.

“What if I told you that I knew your future, Ravus? And that your sharp tongue is but a warning of the viper you’ll become?” Regis questioned.

“Your Majesty—” Luna started, hurrying up to her brother’s side. “Please, as the son of the Oracle, whilst he might not be the Oracle-to-be, should I ever fall, the role will fall unto him.”

“Or it will fall onto your King, just as it has in the past,” Regis replied, his voice taking on a deeper, sharper edge than before.

Clarus, who was by his side as always, looked down at Ravus and Luna apologetically, before squaring his shoulders. “What’s done is done, your Highnesses. His Majesty understands the weight this places on your shoulders, and the dark cloud in your hearts, but we cannot change what has happened. We must consolidate our forces into Lucis now, in order to prevent any more territory and life under his protection from falling into the Empire’s hands.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if your son was still here,” Ravus reemphasized nastily to Regis, before turning and leaving the presentation floor without so much as a bow.

Luna stayed where she was, clasping her hands together and bowing to Regis. “Please forgive him, Regis. We all grieve in our own way. I’m certain he’ll calm once the pain in his soul resides. We’re still so grateful to have you as our step-father. We know you mean only the best for both of us.”

“Do your best to help him do so quickly,” Regis replied, waving a hand to dismiss her. “For the next time he speaks to me in such a fashion, he will rue ever stepping into my life at all.”

Luna knew that wasn’t a threat, but a promise. She could feel it, right into her bones.

How did everything in their world change so drastically in so few years…?

~*~ONE YEAR LATER~*~

Things didn’t improve between Ravus and the king. Ravus was bitter, angry, and nothing would calm that rage within him over how the king had, as he saw it, fundamentally destroyed their hope of a better future.

He threw himself into preparing Luna for her coronation, and consequent duties as Oracle. She was set to be bestowed the title officially shortly after her sixteenth birthday, and with the help of Gladiolus, he had started to train her in combat. She was a small girl, slight and her body wasn’t keen on building more than the most lithe of muscles, something Gladio said they needed to figure out a workaround regarding. They eventually settled on teaching her the rapier, and how to fight as dirty as she could if she was grabbed hold of by someone. Never once did she complain, though Gladio suspected that was more to keep her brother happy than because she was actually keen on the lessons.

The coronation was one that was being celebrated for a great number of reasons:

First, a world without a true Oracle was a dim one, and Luna’s world would open wide to her once she was officially Oracle. Many people in the world needed the Oracle’s healing, and without the title, red tape of a modern world _fixated_ on titles prevented her from moving around. Even Regis agreed that, once she was Oracle, she would be permitted to leave the Citadel freely.

Second, not only was she to be Oracle, but she was to be the Oracle to the Chosen King. While there were plenty of reports, debates, opinion pieces, and conversations on the streets and around the water colors about whether Prince Noctis would return, seeing her step into that role would inspire hope. It would be like watching godly prophecy in motion, live and tangible. It was something people around the world needed, especially as Regis’s Wall continued to get pulled back progressively because the Empire was far stronger than ever before.

Third, and last, Luna was about to make history as the youngest Oracle ever. Before her, the one to hold the record was a distant ancestor named Venu Dolce Fleuret, a man of whom there was artwork in their home in Tenebrae. He was nineteen when he became Oracle, the jealous hand of a rival family member claiming the life of his mother and prior Oracle well before her time.

Rejoicing for these landmarks would be for the people watching from the streets, from their homes, both in Insomnia and across the globe. That much became obvious when, as Luna was finishing her makeup and dressing with the help of Gentiana, there was a surprise visit in the form of the Marshal of the Crownsguard.

“I’m sorry to bother you, your Highness,” he said as Gentiana allowed him to enter Luna’s bedroom. He bowed to her, somber. “But I need to speak to you.”

“Of course, marshal,” Luna invited, standing and approaching, to meet him halfway. She laced her fingers in front of her, watching him from under the headdress she was required to wear for part of the ceremony. “Is everything alright?”

“…no.” Cor straightened and looked down to her, his somber expression growing grimmer than normal. “There was an incident earlier today, involving the king and the prince.” Luna frowned, but if it bothered Cor more than he already was, it didn’t show in his tone or on his face. “Ravus was called to speak on some recent bizarre activity involving him and a student at his university,” he went on to explain. “It seems this individual, named Loqi Tummelt, has connections to the Empire. He’s a confirmed Niff, which already makes him suspect, but it appears he isn’t just a refugee, based on our monitoring his communication and internet activity. And we’ve seen that, in the last month, Ravus has been spending an abundance of time with him and others in Tummelt’s circle. When questioned, his Highness’s attitude was… brazen, to put it lightly, and he’s being removed. From Lucis. Right now. I wasn’t there when this went on, but if you want a chance to say goodbye to him…”

Luna nodded slowly, doing her best to keep her composure, and she looked over to Gentiana. “How long do I have?”

“The brother is almost to the garage, and moving steadily, with conviction,” the High Messenger advised tenderly as she watched the world through closed eyes. “The Lady is due to her altar and her trident in far too short a time. To even run for the brother, she will be late to claiming what is hers. The choice is the Lady’s and the Lady’s alone.”

With a nod, Luna looked to her hands. Cor watched her in silence for just a short bit, before saying, “I’m sorry you have to make this choice.”

“I believe Ravus made it for me,” Luna said with a soft sigh. She looked up to Cor, and put on the best smile she could muster. “Clarus was there?”

“Yes.”

“Then I know, had Ravus only reacted far more humbly, Clarus would have done everything to ensure he would be there for my coronation. He has decided that it is not a priority for him… but it is for me.” She bowed to Cor. “Thank you for telling me he will be absent today.”

“…yes, of course, your Highness.” When Luna stepped forward, Cor stepped to the side, and bowed to her as she passed. “Blessed coronation, Princess Lunafreya,” he bid as she walked for the door, frowning at her back.

“Thank you so much, marshal. May the Astrals smile upon us all this day.”

In truth, Luna wanted to run after Ravus, but her coronation wasn’t for her. It was for the many people suffering out there in the world, who needed a glimmer of hope that one day, that suffering would be gone from their lives. The needs of so many outweighed her desire to go to her brother. There would be a time and a place, once the day was over, to be alone and to consolidate the absence of her brother. Her second brother to vanish from her life, because she knew Regis would never let him return once he left Lucis.

The world was fracturing, splintering, and it felt as though Ravus was right: the blow that started those cracks was the day Regis threw his only son into the Crystal’s hands, when Luna _knew_ he knew it would jeopardize nearly everything.

She hoped he would return soon…

But she would be hoping so for a long while, yet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this went a bit darker than I thought it would when I started this one, and fast, too.
> 
> I tried to keep it at a 'teen' level, at least.
> 
> Chapter warnings anyway: Spousal and child abuse. Again, I believe I kept it at a teen rating.

~*~THREE YEARS LATER~*~

Being friends with Ignis Scientia and Gladiolus Amicitia was something Prompto never imagined happening in a million years. There were so many things that came out of it, too. He got to learn about Noctis, and why his step-sister was so worried, for one. It was hard to believe that the Heir Apparent was such an insecure boy, but it made sense. After everything he went through, and even though being declared the King of Kings would give anyone the pass to be a horrible person, apparently Noctis never really considered it much, and actually got bashful at the mention of it.

But being friends with his Hand and his Shield opened Prompto to meeting incredible people, and receiving awesome training. He did everything to be a fit student to Ignis when he would give him lessons on how to cook healthy meals, and when Gladio would offer combat lessons. He appeared to be best when handling projectiles, and the Marshal of the Crownsguard had more than once barked at Gladio to stop wasting time with swords, and to get Prompto on guns.

That was another thing: Prompto got to meet _Cor the freaking Immortal_. The guy he thought was so cool to learn about in elementary school was just as cool in person as Prompto imagined. And he was really nice. Yeah, he was stern, firm, and didn’t hesitate to put on a drill sergeant’s hat to verbally slap Gladio around if he was being stupid, but it was clear he came from a genuinely kind place. He was even going to take Prompto to see about getting a Crownsguard-grade gun as his first personal weapon ever, very soon. Even though he knew Prompto had no desire to join the Crownsguard, he knew why Ignis ever engaged Prompto in the first place, and had expressed that he felt Prompto would be a good person for Noctis.

That day, however, he was due for dinner at the Citadel, so he could meet Princess Lunafreya. Even after all that time, he hadn’t been able to meet her, mostly because of the king’s over-protectiveness. Prompto understood, and was delighted that she was able to make the choice to meet him herself, finally.

Unfortunately, that dinner was going to have a subject thrust upon him that he hoped he’d never have to discuss with any of them.

That subject came in the form of a fist slamming directly into his right eye, the vision in it going bright white, then dark and red. Prompto staggered backwards, nearly tripping over his adoptive mother as she hunched on the floor. “Stop, please!” he implored. “She can’t take much m—”

“Why do you even _care_?” snapped his adoptive father. “It’s not like she cares about you any more than I do.”

Prompto winced at that, his wounded eye swelling and hurting with the expression, and he looked to the side. “You shouldn’t…” He stopped when he felt his mother clawing at his clothes, to try to stand up. He turned to help her, frowning to her. The day had been really nice when it was just the two of them. That was rare, but she’d gotten a little nicer as he got older, and he cherished every single minute.

Her face was battered, and so were her knuckles. She’d thrown her share of hits, though not to his father’s face. That was how it always had been. The few times they were both home, they would drink or take in other altering substances, and he’d start sniping at her with words. She would retaliate physically, always thinking she could face off with him and ‘get him first’, but he was stronger. Sometimes, Prompto believed she thought it’d be easy with her husband as it was when she went after Prompto. She was on the losing end every time with his father, and to a brutal degree. The first time he had to clean up her blood, he was only six years old.

Ultimately, it was a case of two business people forced into adopting a child they didn’t want, and who had money to spare since they didn’t pay for the kind of house they could actually afford. That money had to go somewhere. Prompto just wished he could blame their behavior solely on what they partook in. If someone called him out on it, he would avidly blame that, but in his heart, he knew better.

“What a good boy,” she praised, patting at Prompto’s face clumsily. At least, until she was shoving him off to the side to try to attack her husband again.

That time, Prompto did trip, right over the overturned chair his father punched his wife out of when she’d attacked him and walked out, to the kitchen to sit and demand Prompto make her something to eat. He fell right on over it, and slammed into the tiled floor with a groan. He didn’t even notice his mother going across the kitchen, into the refrigerator, then hitting the floor.

What he did notice was his father’s form turning to Prompto, and the words, “_And you_—”

Prompto quickly put his hands over his face, to prevent more damage from happening there. The two-worded starter was a threat, seconds away from being carried out, and he couldn’t risk any more bruising where he couldn’t hide it. The attacks would be frenzied, so his father wouldn’t care about him protecting himself. It would all hurt the same.

——

It was _embarrassing_, showing up for dinner with a black eye, and wearing gloves, in order to hide the damage to his hands from repeated blows from the man he called ‘dad’.

“I hope the other guy looks worse,” Gladio remarked when Prompto entered the dining hall, raising an eyebrow.

Ignis looked over and grew visibly concerned, standing to have a look at him. “What in the world happened?”

“Something _super_ stupid, and if I tell you guys, you’re just gonna laugh at me,” Prompto brushed off with a laugh. Laughing hurt, but he did a good job of not showing it.

“Stop doing stupid things,” Gladio directed sarcastically.

“Yeah, yeah, you know me, guys,” Prompto dismissed, laughing bashfully.

He hoped that would be the end of it, but then _she_ entered the room, and he stood as straight as he could, eyes wide. Lunafreya smiled brightly when she laid eyes on the blond boy, gracefully gliding for him to greet him, though she frowned a little at his eye. “Oh, what _happened_?” she asked as she approached, holding her hands out for him to take.

“Just an accident, your Highness,” Prompto said, taking her hands in his gloved ones, and bowing, albeit a bit rigidly.

Even for having only met him face-to-face for the first time, Luna seemed to see that something was wrong, and it wasn’t the fault of some ‘I ran into the door’ excuse. She stepped in closer, and Prompto blinked, especially when she bowed her head and rested her forehead against his. Her hands began to emit a white-gold light, which traveled from her, and into him, the glow bringing warmth and relaxation with it. Wounds they couldn’t see eased in pain, and the swelling on his eyes reduced progressively, over the minute or so that she held onto him.

When she was done, the pain had stopped, any swelling his body held had gone away, and even the blurriness within his wounded eye had faded. The bruising remained, and she said, “I can’t heal what has already left the body.” She reached up to touch under his eye, since much of the bruising had spread into his cheek bone. “Blood that has turned to bruising may still reside under the skin, but it’s expelled from the body all the same, until it breaks down and fades. But otherwise, no more should emerge.”

“Wow.” He just got healed by Luna, the Oracle… “Thank you, I don’t… know what to say, princess.”

“Please, call me Luna,” she insisted, still tender in her actions and her smile. “You are a friend, are you not?”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Prompto agreed, although it was more to give the right answer than a confident one. “Thank you, though.”

“Not every day you get to be around magic of that caliber, huh?” Gladio asked as he waved everyone for the table.

“No way. Only time us plebes get to see magic is when it’s on TV or something!” Prompto headed to the table, watching to see what chair Luna was going to, and then went to pull it out to help her sit.

Gladio took notice of that, and looked at Ignis. “Look at that, you’ve taught him well,” he mused. The only reason he and Ignis didn’t go to do that was simply because Luna had always waved them off, hoping for them to treat her more like one of them. Prompto was new, so he was an exception, clearly.

“Believe it or not, I’ve had to teach him very little,” Ignis replied. He and Gladio remained standing until Luna was seated, at which time, they both took their seats as well. “Whilst he’s not the most refined, he understands chivalry and manners are often just part of common courtesy. Opening doors for others, chewing with your mouth open is awful, and talking with your mouth open makes you difficult to hear and messy… He simply received definitions and compensated for what he lacked, in most cases.”

“The only thing I really have to learn is proper table manners in front of nobility and royalty,” Prompto said, going to sit next to Ignis then, so he could give him instructions if he needed, without talking over the table.

“Come now, I’ve been telling you that you’ll be fine,” Ignis insisted. “Princess Lunafreya doesn’t mind errors, and Gladio’s a mess, as you know, and has no room to judge.”

“Ha ha,” Gladio droned at Ignis.

“I’m just so thrilled that the stars have finally aligned in such a way that you and I can meet, face-to-face, Prompto,” Luna said sincerely. She smiled as a member of the serving staff ghosted up beside her, as one did for each of the four, to start fixing them their plates. Prompto was wide-eyed, but he tried not to insist people didn’t have to serve him. Even though they _didn__’t_.

“M-Man, it definitely has been a long time coming! I know being the Oracle is tough work, though, and I’m really glad to hear about you being out there with the people!” he went on to say, doing his level best to look comfortable and collected.

“I enjoy being with the people,” Luna said warmly.

“Even when the crazy people start trying to talk to her,” Gladio added, amused.

“Gladio, they’re not crazy,” Luna faux-scolded, smiling, which caused Gladio to playfully object to that statement.

As the serving staff finished their placements and carted out of the dining hall, the four began talking and having quite a bit of fun. Luna was actually pretty funny, almost as much as she was cute. Ignis and Gladio, predictably, kept the banter up to a maximum, and it all seemed so natural, including how they would always make certain Prompto was staying involved in the discussion.

It honestly made him forget about how awful things had been, earlier in the day. It also made him wonder how things would feel when (and if, honestly), Prince Noctis return. It was clear that Noctis was near and dear to all three of them, and Ravus as well, before his sudden departure. Many of the Crownsguard seemed to rumble in lament to the absence of the prince, but would they feel the same if his return came after those wounds healed?

Prompto couldn’t say how he would feel. Ignis befriended him because Luna wanted him to be a friend to Noctis. They cared after him because of his kindness to Chibi—no, to _Pryna_—and because Luna wanted him to be a friend to Noctis. What if the prince came back and was still a child? What if he came back, and wasn’t recognizable at all? What if he was a twisted version of what he could’ve been, had he not been cast into the Crystal, as Prompto learned had happened all those years ago?

He wasn’t even worried about losing the three as friends when and if that day came…

To Prompto, he was already sure that would happen, so he had no reason to dwell on what was an accepted fact of the future. All he personally hoped was for the chance to say goodbye, should he and the prince not get along for whatever reason… again, when, and if, he returned.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was tempted to leave in all the typos caused by my kittens and one cat, in order: Jax, Gladio and Ezio.
> 
> Then I realized it’d just be suddenly stopped words, long parts with just space, or ‘gfl;sdkjgoedikdddddddddd’ in there.

~*~ONE YEAR LATER~*~

The sound of lances clashing against one another was distinct, and echoed through the training room. The sound was followed by the polearms sliding across one another, as Ignis ripped his away from Gladio’s, and then swung it around with a speedy turn, dropping in an attempt to swipe out the elder’s feet. Gladio was quick to shove the end of his lance into the mat, and hoist himself up and over the attempt, before sliding away and going back on guard.

“Good,” Gladio praised. “You’re fast, even with a long weapon, and that’s damn important.”

“It certainly helps that I’m not broad as a barn,” Ignis remarked, pulling straight and pushing his glasses up his nose.

The comment made Gladio chuckle and, with Ignis going to ease, he followed suit. “I’ve never really been into lances and fighting staffs, but they’re what I wanted to start Noct on after I met him.”

“He was always fond of them. Them and fighting fans. I’m not certain if it was genuine fondness, or just an attempt to break away from the expectation that he should learn the sword first.”

“Was he defiant?” Gladio asked. He’d never had the chance to actually meet his future king before… well.

“No, not particularly,” Ignis answered, shaking his head. Taking the momentary break to catch his breath, he swung the lance over his shoulders, and then draped his arms over the lance. “He’d become different, following the attempt on his life. He was incredibly malleable before, although increasingly somber. After, however, he became resistant ‘lest you knew how to speak to him. And ‘lest you knew what he was actually about. There were accusations he’d become spoilt, what with all the care he received in the aftermath, but that’s ridiculous.”

“He was a kid who someone tried to kill,” Gladio added, sounding more than a little unimpressed at the knowledge of those accusations.

“Precisely. Anyone with half a brain could see he _needed_ that care, firstly. Secondly, he never made demands. He simply didn’t appreciate demands being made of him, either. I suspect he was still in a great deal of pain. I’m afraid Queen Sylva got very little time with him, to help his healing along. She got him out of bed and off his wheelchair, but the rest was up to him and to his doctors. I imagine it’s hard to see the problems when looking at not just a prince, but a predestined savior of the day.”

“Yeah, though I’m not sure I’m willing to give them that. If you wouldn’t think that of a kid that behaved the same way, but didn’t carry a title or status, then you shouldn’t default to thinking that when a kid does.”

Ignis nodded in agreement as he paced about the practice floor. “Not much to be done about it now,” he said after a long pause. “All we can hope is that, the day he returns to us, he’ll be better off physically and we can work with him.”

“Who’s to say he’s even aging in there?” The question had Ignis looking at Gladio curiously. “I mean, no one knew he’d be pulled in there to begin with. How do we know what’s really happening in there? He could be dead. He could be in some sort of frozen state, and come out still as a kid. He could be aging faster than any of us, for that matter.”

“A bridge we’ll have to cross once we reach it,” Ignis advised.

With that, he twirled his lance from his shoulders and unceremoniously clocked Gladio across the jaw with the unbladed end. The larger young man seethed as he went to the side quite a bit from the blow, and then whipped back around and slapped at one of Ignis’s hands with the end of his staff. Ignis seethed and ripped that hand away, before tucking it behind his back, and sliding back into a ready position, one-handed.

Gladio twirled his staff slowly, before they moved in on one another to begin their practice once again.

Their sparring and practice often ran the same way, and ended with proper praises given to both. Gladio was turning into a fine Shield, and Ignis was a fitting advisor and steward, both capable of protecting their prince as his retainers.

Neither had the heart to say it out loud, although both thought of the same question, deep in their minds: Would they ever have a prince to retain?

It was one of which neither wanted to debate the possibilities. No news was good news, and held positive possibilities along with negative ones.

~*~MEANWHILE~*~

Regis was cold those days. It was an emerging chill, and one Luna had felt since the day Regis threw Noctis into the Crystal. She never felt unsafe. Even if he got snappy with her, he never tried to so much as impose his size on her, let alone actively made her life miserable. He was the closest thing she had to a father, her own passing when she was too young to remember, so it broke her heart on a very deep level to see a careful man degrade into a paranoid one.

What made it worse was how he exploited his own magic because of said paranoia.

“Regis, we are all very grateful to have a king such as you, but you must slow down,” she urged quietly. She stood at his side, a hand hovering over his knee. He’d had to start utilizing a cane lately, and doctors predicted it was only a matter of time before he was in a wheelchair, the magic that he tapped from the Crystal aging him at an increasing rate.

“Such is the burden of a King of Lucis,” he advised, eyes closed as he enjoyed the relief brought by Luna’s healing light.

“A king beloved, and a king expending himself as though his is an eternal life,” Luna insisted.

She expected it to be left there, if not causing Regis to order her away from him. Such was the case whenever they spoke and she misstepped. However, that time, he surprised her.

“I need only endure until the time is right.”

Though she didn’t stop her magic cast, that comment gave her pause. “I-I’m… sorry, your Majesty?” He didn’t answer; he didn’t open his eyes. The comment was too intriguing to let go that easily, however. She thought for a bit, trying to figure out what he could mean. “…do you mean until Noctis returns?”

“Aye.”

Luna looked down to her hand. Was the healing light easing him to a place he would talk more readily? Discreetly, she increased her efforts, to cause that relief to travel up and down Regis’s leg. It was a gentle touch, one others she’s used it on describing it as feeling like the perfect, warm summer’s day, with the sun radiating into their souls and filling them with the Oracle’s and Astrals’ love. She wasn’t sure about all of that, as the Oracle was cursed in such a way that using that power on herself or himself produced nothing. Nothing good, nothing bad. If she were to be gravely hurt, there would be nothing she could do to heal herself.

“…has Bahamut told you when that would be?” It wasn’t commonly known that Bahamut occupied the Crystal; a space that once belonged to Etro, who was long believed perished shortly after the Founder King of Lucis was declared. The King of Lucis, coronated and ascended, would know, however.

“As with you and all who live, I know not the day nor the hour, but he will return when it’s time for the prophecy to fulfill itself,” Regis replied, leaning his head back against his throne. “I know only the signs by wish to guess.”

“The Empire taking Tenebrae, and later Accordo,” Luna said quietly.

They were alone. Regis was talking to her for the first time since Noctis was still with them. She wanted to take advantage of it. She realized she was pushing it, and there was a chance that Regis might actually think about harming her that day, but she was desperate to see into his mind and judgment.

“The progressive stripping of Lucis,” he added. “The failure to protect them.”

“Not from a lack of vigilance and duty to your people, Regis,” Luna insisted to her step-father.

“But you’ve disagreed with much of my decisions.”

“Just because I disagree, that doesn’t mean I don’t see the intention,” she assured. “You’ve done all you can for the people. I can disagree with your methods, and agree with your sentiment.”

“A maturity well beyond your years,” he stated. It was a compliment, even if Regis clearly didn’t vocalize it in tone as such. He opened his eyes and looked at Luna, but he didn’t speak.

“Please know that I appreciate all you do, and I am truly sorry Ravus could not see what was in your heart,” she said honestly.

“Ravus’s fury over his mother and his step-brother collectively will take him far once Noctis returns… provided he doesn’t allow the Empire to corrupt him.” Luna nodded in agreement to that, looking off to the side. After a pause, Regis pushed Luna’s hand away from him. “Go. I’ve work to do.”

The push didn’t hurt, but Luna still winced. Again, it was cold, impersonal, and she was missing the man who read her stories at night after he finished reading to his own son. She wanted to ask what visions Bahamut gave Regis, as she was then suspecting that was the root cause of his break with normalcy so long ago.

Instead, she simply bowed to him. “I’ll take my leave, your Majesty, and I will see you in one month. I depart for Lestallum in two hours.”

“A month, then.” Once again, Regis waved Luna away to make her leave, his attention off of her nearly entirely at that point.

She clasped her hands over her heart and bowed, before turning to descend the curved stairs in departure.

~*~THAT NIGHT~*~

There was a benefit to being allowed to travel about Lucis. Beyond the fact that the Oracle was an inoffensive traveler, it gave Luna an opportunity to call her brother. He’d dumped the cell phone number he’d held for so many years the minute he left Insomnia, but was quick to contact her discreetly with his information.

In order to most safely speak to him, Luna waited for her travels outside the city, during which she would utilize a phone Ignis helped her get under an alias. “This is what we would’ve been doing for Noct as he got older, and if he wished it,” Ignis explained. “He made his desires for facets of his life to be as ‘normal’ as possible, so I’ve gotten quite astute at creating false personas, and ensuring a paper trail is next to impossible to find and trace.”

As such, when she stopped at an inn for the evening—she never traveled with anyone but Gentiana and her dogs, making it easy to stop where she needed to rest—she called Ravus. She sat down on the bed of the small motel room, and held the phone up, since she was calling on video, so she could see if he looked well.

He answered after just a few seconds, bowing his head to her once he could see her. “Lunafreya. On your travels yet again?”

“Aye,” she answered, studying him, and what she could see behind him. He was normally very careful about his backgrounds when they spoke over video, but she was still trying. She couldn’t tell where he was, and he refused to give answers. Regis was likely right that he was with the Empire, and that scared her. “I’m headed west, and will be spending a month there.”

“Dedicated like mother.”

“I can hope to be. How have you been, Ravus?”

“Quite well. I found some people who staffed the palace recently. Ones who were able to flee before they were executed with the rest.”

“Really? Where are they?”

“Where they are isn’t much important.” Wise to his sister’s attempts to figure out where he was, as always, Ravus dodged answering that expertly. “They had something interesting to say, however. They told me that the day before the Empire stormed Tenedrae and killed mother, the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive stationed here had departed.”

A frown fell over Luna’s face. “What? They must be mistaken. Even Clarus and Cor confirmed there were Lucian troops stationed at our home.”

“And they were, until the day before.”

“But why would they prepare to dispatch more if they’d recalled the rest, Ravus?”

“Because they were clearly lying to us. Of course they would lie for their king.” Luna shook her head emphatically. “Lunafreya, how else would they sweep Tenebrae in one day? The Empire has built their forces to be direct counters to Lucis, who has the benefit of _magic_. Every other military of this world is insignificant by comparison.”

“I—”

“Did you ever hear of a casualty and fatality report being delivered to our step-father?”

The question gave Luna pause, and she frowned a little more, looking to the side. Now that Ravus mentioned it, no, she couldn’t recall even hearing rumors, and whenever such reports were on their way to Regis, word of it tended to get back to her, Gladio and Ignis. It was always a sad, sobering day when those reports arrived.

“Think about it, Lunafryea,” Ravus went on to encourage. He looked at something behind the phone, and nodded his head. “I have to go, sister. We’ll talk again soon.”

Before Luna could reply, the connection between them was severed by Ravus. It left Luna sitting in silence, and she lowered the phone into her lap. Something wasn’t right. Neither with the good points Ravus brought up, or the story as he told it as a whole.

The worst part was: It would have to wait until she returned to Insomnia. Waiting would be the worst of it all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this longer, but it'll take me forever to do if I don't just leave it here and continue in the next one.
> 
> Content Warning: After-the-fact discussion about abuse. Ignis is vindictive. Our main plot actually moved forward a tiny bit.

~*~ONE YEAR LATER~*~

Prompto knew he had been ghosting Ignis and Gladio. They had messages several times over the last couple of days to have him come and practice with them. Cor Leonis was available for training and mentoring, and he really did need to take advantage of that, but he couldn’t be seen. His parents had come home for the first time in several months, and had one of their classic blowouts.

It started with his mother, who had gotten home first, and started railing on him almost immediately. When his father got back the next day, she started in on him, and he retaliated, and Prompto, perpetual puppy dog, still tried to protect her. It wasn’t right that she would hit either of them, but if his father wanted to do something about it, he should’ve done enough to get away and then called the police. His father was stronger than his mother, and could do so much more damage so much more quickly.

He always got upset at guys who said, ‘If a woman hits me, I’ll hit her back.’ First, there was a difference between a woman hitting and a woman attacking, and second, if there was no reason to hit back other than revenge for being hit, that wasn’t a good reason. If one wouldn’t tell a ten year old it was okay to a four year old for hitting the ten year old, then one couldn’t say it was okay for a man to just hit a woman for hitting him.

That was Prompto’s take, anyway, and he was glad when they left finally, but he was left with the very clear signs of what went down. His left eye was still swelling, and his lips sore from a cut that ran through both, more a coincidence in the fray than a deliberate thing. But at least the house was cleaned up, orderly. Prompto had always been someone who appreciated order, even as a kid. It was something Ignis praised him over often, because he had no supervision, and still made sure his living situation was clean and tidy.

It didn’t negate from the fact that he basically had to ghost Ignis and Gladio, because having more bruises would be embarrassing, no matter how much time had passed since the first and only time they had seen it.

Unfortunately for him, Ignis’s job was to be a busybody for Noctis, and since he didn’t have Noctis, he did it with everyone else in his life in the meantime. Practice made perfect, and all that.

So, when a knock came to the front door, following a ring of the doorbell, Prompto was surprised, but not expecting anyone he knew. It was likely a delivery one of his parents forgot, or something. Which was why he called, “One minute!”

That minute was spent with Prompto slowly pushing up to his feet from his desk, his ribs radiating with pain, and he loped his way out with a limp that had prevented him from running for the last day. That had been more crushing than anything. Running had become something he found incredibly important to his state of mind, so much so that he was up at six in the morning, every morning, to go running, and would go out again at six in the evening. Even if he was up until four in the morning, he would get up two hours later. Everything felt wrong if he couldn’t run at least once a day.

He flung the door open once he got to it, with a, “Sorry about the wait! I…”

He trailed off, his eyes going wide, with Ignis just as wide-eyed as he, staring back at him with a slight tilt to his head. “…a bad time?” the older boy asked.

“Ah. Ahaha. No, sorry.” Prompto sidled to the side and held the door for Ignis, his eyes casting to the floor.

Ignis stood still for a noticeable second too long, but soon stepped in and turned to remove his shoes by the others lined near the door. “I’m sorry for dropping in, but you’ve not answered our texts, and missed several trainings we had lined up for you…” There was nothing cross about Ignis’s tone, or even in his body language. That was… good. But Prompto was worried there was something there that was negative, and he wasn’t sure he could handle more.

“Ah, really? Sorry, I’ve been caught up in a bunch of schoolwork. I was talking to Monica last week, and she said good grades in school go a long way when being associated with nobles!” Prompto apologized. “I’m just not so good at it, so trying takes a lot of effort.”

“Is that so? Well, she’s right, although it’s less for us, and more for the harping court,” Ignis replied. He turned to Prompto, who could feel him tightly observing the bruising and swelling over his face. He did his best to pretend he didn’t notice the staring.

“’Harping court’?”

“One thing you’ll notice about the court and the court’s families is that they’ve not much else better to do than gossip in their free time. Spread rumors, about one another, themselves, and the worse, the more entertaining,” Ignis coached. It felt less like advice and more like a warning. “Children aren’t even exempt.”

“That’s awful.”

“Indeed. Noct was on the end of it frequently.”

“As the _prince_?” Prompto gaped, watching Ignis pass him by, and start slowly scanning his house.

“Aye, not even royalty escapes the rumor mill. So, being the best you can be where you can is oft the best way to go about it, although you can’t be perfect in all ways, so you must prepare for those to be the focal points.”

“Okay…” Prompto rubbed at his arm as he slowly followed Ignis, doing his best not to limp as he moved. “W-Well, I’m really sorry for ghosting you guys. I didn’t mean to.”

“I’d say all’s well so long as you’re well, but…” Ignis turned just ahead of entering the kitchen, and looked at Prompto with discerning eyes. “I can’t fathom you had another run-in with some bullying students.”

The way Ignis said that, it told Prompto that he needed to answer that very, very carefully. Like Ignis had done something on the back end of things to ensure Prompto didn’t have more ‘bullying’ to contend with. If he was reading Ignis right… man, he hoped no one at school got yelled at for no reason. That would be legitimately awful. It was something he hadn’t intended, so he actually didn’t get bullied those days by pretty much anyone.

“I…” He trailed off, and frowned. Ignis was way too smart to buy any excuse he’d pull at that point.

“Are your parents home?” Ignis persisted, his tone level and quiet.

“They just left. Mom yesterday, dad today.”

“Alright. And were they here for the last two, three days?”

“Yeah.”

Ignis took a step closer, and leaned to the side to get a better look at Prompto’s face, since his eyes were still trained on the floor. “Was it your father?”

Prompto fought a flinch and ended up taking a step back from Ignis. “They were fighting each other and I got in the way to stop it,” he said quickly. “It wasn’t directed at me.”

That was a dumb thing to say, he realized. For as prim and proper, poised and smart as Ignis was, he was also extremely well-versed on the damage caused by different kinds of attacks. He was practically educated enough to be some sort of crime scene investigator. Prompto chastized himself for not even being able to get around such a basic conversation, even though there was nothing basic about it in the slightest.

“I don’t care if it was a complete accident,” Ignis advised after a pause spent just observing Prompto. “This is unacceptable.” He turned from Prompto then, and went for his bedroom.

“Wh—Ignis?” Prompto stammered. He followed him as best he could, no longer hiding the limp, because what was the point?

“Princess Lunafreya should be in tomorrow from a trip to Accordo,” Ignis advised. Because Prompto was such a neat and tidy boy, Ignis had no problems locating a duffel bag, in which he started to fold and tuck clothing of the blond’s. “I’ll have you visit with the Citadel infirmary tonight, and then you can decide to stay there or to go home with Gladio and stay there. Once she’s returned, she’ll heal you, and you’ll be free to go.”

“Uh—”

“I suggest not contacting your parents for the next week or so.”

“I don’t talk to them unless they’re here,” Prompto advised quietly. Ignis paused and looked at Prompto in question. “Um. They’re gone more often than they’re here, and they don’t answer calls. Well. My… calls.”

Ignis squinted his eyes, then turned back to his work. “Splendid. That works out quite nicely then.”

Prompto had no idea what the hell that meant. He wouldn’t be finding out anytime soon, either…

~*~THE NEXT DAY~*~

“What do you intend to do?” Cor Leonis asked after receiving word about the previous evening. He’d caught up to Ignis, who was walking for the throne room with a file tucked under his arm.

“I’m going to give His Majesty a chance to ruin the lives of two people who deserve it,” Ignis advised. The phrasing, while not necessarily a deliberate dig at Regis’s years-long lockdown on the entirety of Insomnia, was unapologetically harsh.

Cor seemed to not mind. Then again, he and Cor had been the only ones who could even attempt to get Regis to stop without the fear of being punished. “Do you have suggestions?”

“I’ve one,” the teenager answered.

“You should probably let me join you in this.”

“You’re always welcome, marshal.” Ignis stopped when he reached the throne room’s entry, and looked to the Crownsguard there. “I demand urgent audience with His Majesty,” he advised.

“One moment, Lord Scientia,” one acknowledged, saluting in bow to him and Cor. She turned and promptly entered to make the king aware.

“What suggestion are you going to make?” Cor asked as they waited.

“Mr. and Mrs. Argentum are both quite successful in their individual lines of work, evidently. The house in their names hardly speaks for their net worth,” Ignis explained. He pulled the folder, and opened to a page that specified financial information, easily accessible with the sort of clearances and allowances provided to someone in Ignis’s position. “It’s clear they own it for Prompto alone, and simply appear to make certain he hasn’t died or burned it down, it seems. Having a dead child or an arsonist as a child is a bad look, after all. As such, if Prompto had gone for help in the past, it’s very likely it would’ve halted because they’re important in these companies. I want to ruin their careers.”

“Sounds like something we can make happen even if Regis doesn’t agree,” Cor assured. “…but it’ll be far funnier if he does.”

Ignis couldn’t help but smirk just a little at that, but it fell quickly and he straightened to the Crownsguard arriving again. “His Majesty will see you,” she said. She moved to the side and held her door, and her partner getting the other.

The court was in session with Regis, but it seemed that they were on recess, as many were talking casually in their seats, while Regis read some paperwork. Clarus stood at his side, and nodded to Ignis and Cor as they arrived to the presentation floor. He seemed so tired, like he aged twenty years in the ten since Regis had one-eightied in his sanity, but he was poised and collected as always.

“What do you wish to discuss with me?” Regis asked without looking up from what he was reading.

Ignis glanced at Cor, worried for a moment about it because of Regis not even bothering to show interest. Cor simply clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded.

“Your Majesty, there is a young man with whom Princess Lunafreya, Gladiolus and myself have become well-acquainted. He’s a young man who attended the same school as Prince Noctis, back then. He’s been training in the fighting skills of ranged Crownsguard, albeit informally, and is a fond citizen to the crown.” So long as Prompto could go out to run, he seemed content with the perpetual, militaristic lockdown of the city. “He’s seventeen, and it has come to my attention that his parents, his adoptive parents—who are two esteemed business people in the areas of power and water—have been abusing him.”

Regis finally looked up then. He didn’t say anything, but he did watch Ignis expectantly.

“The first time we saw the evidence of this abuse was last year, but he told us that he’d gotten into a fight with bullies at school, and so Princess Lunafreya healed him, and that was that. However, last night, I was made aware of injuries far more significant and acute, and he admitted that it was his parents who, at best, simply don’t come home for sometimes months at a time. This has been the case since he started school when he was five. These individuals aren’t representative of the population His Majesty desires to make up his kingdom, let alone the Crown City, and so I would like to place a formal request that they be dealt with, and their assets moved to the adopted son, as they have no other children or next-of-kin.”

“Cor, bring the folder,” Regis ordered, knowing that the folder Ignis held had details that would be needed for such an order.

“Of course, your Majesty.” Cor bowed to Regis, then took the folder. He went to the side-winding stairs opposite Clarus, so as to not have to trip around the giant Amicitia as he fulfilled Regis’s request.

About halfway up the stairs, there was a sudden change in the room. It was an inexplicable change. Like someone turned on a broken television, and its electromagnetic waves had started to creep through the body. It was the feel that one would get innately when any sort of large electronic was on somewhere in the room, but no such things were there. If something was to be watched, the court and king would adjourn to a war room.

Ignis realized he wasn’t the only one who felt that change when he saw court members confused and looking at their hands, and one another. Clarus even looked perplexed, and said something quietly to the king. Ignis was no expert on lip reading, but he had dabbled in it, and pushing his glasses up his nose, it seemed the Shield was asking if Regis felt that. Regis nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t finish when the court burst into a rabbling mess, pointing at the Crystal above Regis’s throne.

For as long as the Kings of Lucis had possession of that massive stone, it had been red in color. True, the bands of light that took Noctis had been blue and white, but the geode itself was red as ruby.

Needless to say, it was jarring to look up and see it had turned a brilliant sky blue. Both the sparkling insides, the polished outerside of its glossiest parts, and the course shell that held it like a broken egg. Ignis could have sworn he saw it as red when he first presented his case to Regis. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one. Even Regis was surprised once he stood to look at it, Cor making it to his side at the same time.

That was when a conversation happened up at the throne that Ignis, nor the court, was able to hear.

“Isn’t blue good?” Cor whispered to Regis and Clarus.

“It was said that the Crystal was once blue, before the Lucii were bestowed it by Bahamut…” Regis replied, eyes studying ever sparkle and shine from its most attractive space.

“So… it’s not good?” Clarus asked, not sure what Regis’s point was.

“I don’t know…” Regis admitted quietly. He turned and took the folder from Cor. “Tell Ignis I’ll do as he’s so eloquently asked. They’ll be made examples of. Soon. But for now, I have to go.”

Cor moved to the side and bowed in farewell, holding himself low. “Of course, my king.” Regis passed him by, and Cor held still until he was completely clear. Even then, he didn’t stand completely straight. He did look down to Ignis, however, and nodded his head.

Ignis had been so ready to feel relieved, or disappointed, depending on Regis’s answer. However, he couldn’t find himself capable of feeling either, as it was all surpassed by pure concern and confusion. How, and why, did the Crystal change from red to blue?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s far below freezing outside already, and people in my home don’t believe in heat, so imagine an eskimo with a bunch of cats attached to her writing this.

~*~ONE DAY LATER~*~

“How do you feel?” Lunafreya asked as she finished her delicate work on Prompto’s body. She took to sitting in front of him, on the chair Gladio had placed out for her when she arrived to work on the teenager, and watched him expectantly.

As before, the swelling and pain had ebbed away, leaving simply bruising behind. That time, due to the severity of the damage, as the swelling lowered, the bruising actually increased. An observing Kingsglaive medic, there by Luna’s request to observe, had advised that it was alright, and expected. “Swelling is actually a way the body protects itself as it heals,” she had explained. “With it gone, it’s as if you’ve removed a dam from a river, but now the river will flood the area before righting itself the way nature intended it to be, before interference.”

Ignis departed at that information, to work on getting Prompto a release from school for a while, so he could heal without explaining himself to his fellow students.

“Way better,” Prompto assured with a nod. “There’s no pain, and I don’t feel stiff. Man, you’re really amazing, Luna.”

“Simply blessed with a gift you would no doubt handle just as well had it been you,” Luna replied with a fond smile. She looked to the glaive. “Exorsa, what do you recommend his activity be for the next few days?”

“Technically, he’s fit to do whatever he wants,” Exorsa replied. She stepped in closer, and had Prompto tilt his head back, and allow her to use a penlight on his eyes. “I wouldn’t recommend it, though. That metaphorical river needs time to settle down. Otherwise known as the blood needs to coagulate where it hadn’t, from under the swelling, and the few ‘leaks’ he has in the busted veins and the like need time to heal the rest of the way.” The young lady with black hair and slanted eyes, trademarks of the majority population in Insomnia, smiled gently to Luna. “The weakness and leaks have nothing to do with your magic, but rather the fact that the human body is defiant as hell. It’s why we have cure spells, but also have to use the curatives derived from the magic lent by the king. Even then, depending on what it is, we have no choice but to add traditional medicine on top of it. That’s why I’m a medic.” She looked back to Prompto, patting his head gently. “So, do whatever you want, but take it easy at least for two or three days until the bruises turn green or brown.”

“Okay,” Prompto replied agreeably. “I will.”

“Thank you, Exorsa,” Luna said sincerely. “Will you be able to do check-ins at least once a day?”

“Of course.” Exorsa held out her hand to Prompto. “Why don’t you give me your phone, and I’ll add my info. Let’s meet here each day, around the same time, but if you do something extra—one of your runs, practicing with Amicitia and Scientia—then I want you to text me.”

Prompto frowned, but complied, unlocking his phone before he handed it to her. “I don’t want to put you out or anything, though…”

“You’re not. I’m one of the princess’s personal guards now, for when she leaves the Crown City. If she’s here, I’m here. She’s just referring to meetings and my own training.”

“Oh.”

Once Exorsa returned the phone to Prompto, her entry in his phonebook simply reading ‘Exo’, she turned and bowed to Luna. “I’ll take my leave, your Highness.”

“Thank you again,” Luna acknowledged, smiling fondly.

Exorsa departed then, though not before leaving a couple of slender vials on a table within Luna’s study. Luna squinted to get a look at them, then said, “She left quarter-vial potions for you. Have you used one before?” Prompto shook his head, eyes wide. “They’re most accessible to civilians outside of Insomnia, ironically. The magical curatives are created by companies King Regis lends his magic to for that purpose, and has been the case for… hundreds of years, honestly. Simply crack one over the spot with the most pain. The class and fluid within turns to sparkling dust and your body absorbs it as you absorb my healing light. At the quarter-vial, it’s for pain relief, nothing more. Akin to taking something over-the-counter, but effective immediately, and no risk of overdosing if you have to take a lot at once.”

“I remember getting a lesson in school when I was a kid, but I didn’t pay much attention,” Prompto said honestly, frowning.

“Most Insomnians haven’t a clue how they work, honestly. Well, I’ll amend that statement to say that most in larger cities about the world don’t. With access to doctors and modern medicine close by, there’s little need to distribute the curatives in high amounts there. They’re mostly for emergency services, both for civilians being helped and the people working those services, soldiers, and those who live out in remote areas,” she continued to educate.

“That’s really interesting. I’ll have to make sure to thank her, since this wasn’t an emergency…”

“Perhaps not physically, in this moment, but it was an emergency in its context,” she corrected softly.

“Huh?”

It was Luna’s turn to frown, and she folded her hands in her lap. “Prompto, you’re not required to suffer. Whatever your mind is telling you about this situation, about us knowing the truth, it’s very likely wrong. Whilst we wish for you to stand as a friend to Noctis whenever he returns to us, you have also become a friend to _us_. A very good friend. One that, if the tables were turned, I know would be acting to his best and greatest efforts to help. This environment you’ve grown up in is an emergency. Separating you from that is an emergency. Your wounds may not have been deadly, but they were a symptom of the emergency we need to pull you from, as our friend, as an innocent young man who deserves better.”

Prompto stared at Luna for a long moment, before laughing nervously and looking at the floor. “Man, you guys are all so nice. I think the people would die if they knew everyone in the Citadel really were the nicest ever,” he said, clearly deflecting from how Luna was turning the conversation towards him. He looked legitimately uncomfortable. It was unnerving for Luna. Was he so unaccustomed to positive attention?

She decided to back off from it and said, “I will go make certain a room is ready for you, alright? That way you needn’t make the journey back home tonight.”

“Ah, okay. Should I just wait here for Ignis?” he asked, watching Luna as she passed him by.

“Yes. Him or Gladiolus. I’ll make certain they’re returning,” she promised as she departed, leaving the blond boy with a soft and warm smile as she passed through the door. She felt so genuinely terrible for Prompto, but clearly his heart wasn’t ready to handle more attention.

She’d seen it before, in her travels. So many people mistook that sort of behavior for someone trying to overcompensate and look like a ‘saintly’ person, when that wasn’t the case at all. It had a simply, single-word term for it, despite its origins coming from a myriad of places.

Simply put, it was depression. It made so much of Prompto make sense to her suddenly. They would have to be gentle in navigating it, to avoid pushing him deeper. Too many compliments, for example, would be dangerous if done too often, before his brain was ready to accept he was worthy of them.

It would be trying, but Luna knew she and the boys would be willing to take on the challenge. Fate really was a funny thing.

—

On his way to obtain paperwork for Prompto to stay out of school for a few days, Ignis found himself getting approached by Gladio. The larger young man was walking at a brisk pace, and before Ignis could even speak, he was grabbing him by the arm and yanking him off, through a random door connected to that hallway. Beyond was one of many small offices, spares for people to step in and work privately, or have conversations as the two were about to.

“The council’s going crazy,” Gladio said once the door was closed. “Over a lot of stuff, including the Crystal changing color.”

“Have any of them made any logical guesses as to its meaning?” Ignis asked, more concerned about that than anything else.

“They think it might mean he’s coming home,” Gladio replied. “My dad does, too. A few suggested he’s died, and was absorbed by it, causing the change of color, but were promptly shut the hell down.”

“’tis a ridiculous notion,” Ignis agreed, watching Gladio pace around. “I doubt that the Astrals or the Crystal would wait hundreds of years for him, just to allow him to perish.”

“Yeah.” Gladio stopped his pacing and looked at Ignis. “And then there’s all the executions the king ordered about half an hour ago.”

Ignis was unreadable when he head that, his mind more on their lost prince than anything or anyone else right at the moment. He adjusted his glasses to try to hide that fact, to buy himself more time to care. “What executions?”

“The decree he signed said something about people who have permanently scarred Lucian society,” Gladio replied. “My dad said that’s gonna include Prompto’s parents.”

Ignis did frown a bit then, but that was the limit of his reaction. He certainly didn’t intend to turn them over for death, but… “Child abusers do permanently scar Lucian society. I can’t disagree with him there.”

“Yeah. Just seems like an extreme answer,” Gladio sighed, clearly somewhere in the same vicinity of thought as Ignis.

Part of the life of a noble child that would be inheriting positions such as they was to understand that things weren’t going to be the same for them as an average citizen. They had to be unafraid to take a life for Noctis or his father. They had to be trained in the fine nuance of political decision. Of lawmaking and in-the-moment actions that could forever change the way their kingdom functioned. Things that seemed terribly cruel to an average citizen may not have seemed that way to someone looking at the whole of the country.

“Do you know if the decree listed crimes?” Ignis asked.

“It was about ten pages long, and I only saw the last, but yeah, somewhere in there, it did. My dad said it’s things like murder, rape, child abuse, terrorism, things like that, with a little addition of, ‘And any other significant crime that is determined to be a wound in the side of the kingdom’. That’s the part the council’s in an uproar about. They’re worried if someone speaks wrong, they’ll be executed.”

“Speaking against King Regis already comes with a prison sentence, so no doubt, if the words were egregious enough, he’d likely do exactly that,” Ignis contemplated.

“I know there’s not much to be done. It’s not like people are rioting in the streets.”

“There was a time that Lucian values _were_ more strict,” Ignis reminded Gladio. “It wasn’t but fifty years ago that many of the freedoms still enjoyed in this day and age, with the king as he is, were simply illegal. He’s not taken the majority of those freedoms away, he’s simply restricted how easy it is to reach them without already having them close to you. So, really, I have to imagine there’s a comfort in seeing the world as it used to be, before the Empire, before the world became so wartorn and cut off.”

“True.” Gladio made a face after saying that, though. “I dunno, I just worry. Is this _really_ the world we’re expecting Noctis to return to?”

“Just remember: We have no idea what his condition will be,” Ignis advised. “He could still be but a child, or he could have been aging all along. He could be hibernating, or able to see all within the throne room. He could be receiving education with the Astrals and unaware of the world as it stands today. As his Shield, you want to protect him already. So do I. But we will drive ourselves mad with trying to be ready for every single solitary possibility.”

“Like you haven’t already been preparing like that,” Gladio scoffed, waving a hand. “I know you, remember?”

“I’ve not, actually. What I _have_ been doing is looking for literature that might help us glean an idea of what to expect. The Cosmogony provides us with absolutely nothing for this.”

“It’s been a long damn time since I looked at that thing.” That wasn’t a particularly surprising statement. Although Insomnians were devout in their hailing of the Oracle, they had very little to do with religion. Ignis had never thought about it before his looking into it all with regards to Noctis, but he had been lately.

“I admittedly dragged my feet with it,” Ignis agreed. “But it’s best to start with the so-called source. It says simply that one day, the Chosen King would be born, and his body would serve as a vessel for the Crystal’s power, a divine power stronger than any god, and he would bring an end to the Starscourge. However, it also states the world would be in an endless night when that time came.”

“And that sure as hell ain’t happenin’. More like the days are getting longer, according to a science report I read the other day.”

“Interesting.” Ignis didn’t question that, either. Gladio was an avid reader, and sometimes that led him to read things one wouldn’t imagine for a warrior-type like he was. “By how much?”

“Like a minute, edging up a hair every season for the last ten years or so. I guess on the planetary scale, that’s huge,” Gladio answered, finally relaxing. He stepped back, so he could lean on the wall behind him, the only space of it on that side of the room due to the built-in bookshelves. “Don’t remember how much, but they said it’s causing temperatures to rise, too.”

“Where did you read that?”

“Was a report my dad had at home.”

“Do you think he would allow me to read it?”

“Sure.” Gladio shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not classified or anything. Him, Cor and Drautos just require things like that to be sent to them so they can be aware of things that might affect the troops. But it’s at home, still.”

“I’ll ask Cor,” Ignis decided. “Noct’s been gone ten years, Gladio.”

“Yeah, I thought about that, too.”

“His interaction with the Crystal was unnatural, and the day-night cycle is going in the opposite direction of the prophecy. That seems suspicious.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna read crazier things about it when you get the report.” Ignis tilted his head in confusion, and Gladio shook his head. “Better you read it than hear more secondhand.”

Odd. “Alright, I’ll go as soon as I can. Will you return to Prompto and give him company? Luna and the glaive should be done by now.”

“Yeah, I gotta let my dad know so he’s not calling to have me help sing lullabies to council members, but…”

“If he does, take Prompto with you,” Ignis suggested. “He’s been here long enough, he might as well see how they behave outside the throne room, too.”

Gladio actually laughed at that one. “Maybe there’ll be some slapfights again, so he can get the full experience.”

A chuckle escaped Ignis and he nodded, striding for the door. “I’ll do more to figure out if the king’s made headway on why the Crystal changed. He left quickly yesterday, I suspect to speak to Bahamut, so surely he can give some sort of answer if willing.”

“Just… be careful,” Gladio warned. “We don’t know if this sudden spike in community conduct code is going to apply to us.”

Ignis gave a confident nod, even if he didn’t feel that confident. That was a harrowing thought, even if Regis had more than once shown a ruthlessness and a lack of humor in the past. He’d yet to turn it on the young ones in the Citadel, and Ignis was the first to admit that it gave them an incredibly sheltered idea of how bad it was out in the world.

—

When the request for a talk came in from Princess Lunafreya, Cor was surprised, but receptive. He had just finished reluctantly pulling the records of prisoners that fit Regis’s list on the decree, and so when he went out to pass it off to his office assistant for transport to the king, he focused on the waiting blonde. “Please, come in, your Highness.” He stepped to the side and gestured back into his office.

“Thank you, marshal,” she said sincerely. She entered promptly, and took a seat in the visitor’s chair in front of his desk. “I know things have gotten incredibly busy, so I promise not to keep you long.”

“Anything on my plate at this moment can wait,” he reassured. Securing the door, he returned to his seat. “What can I do for you, princess?”

“I wanted to ask something for a while. I know things are hectic right now. I’ve heard of the development with the Crystal. However, I believe there is a chance that this might come up soon again.”

“I’m listening,” Cor reiterated, watching Luna unwaveringly.

She nodded and took a deep breath. “I… mm. I learned something very troubling about the day Tenebrae was annexed. That the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard stationed there had been recalled just before the attack. I’m not here to ask if that’s true, because I know it is. Originally, I had only heard it from my brother. But over the last year, I’ve had the benefit of doing my own research; my own investigation into the matter. It’s true. The chain of events are a bit different from what Ravus swears, but ultimately… they were recalled the night before the attack.”

“Princess, I can tell you that no one here did that,” Cor insisted with the utmost seriousness and a shake of his head. “But what I can also tell you is I can do an investigation into the matter.”

Luna’s eyes, which had fallen at his denial, lifted again and widened. “You would do?”

“Yeah, if something happened where an impostor managed to convince them an order came in from one of us to do that, then we need to know. Particularly because not a single returning soldier said that they received an order of retreat. We interviewed them thoroughly, those who made it home, and they all spoke of being there and fighting for your mother.”

“How bizarre…” Luna had no reason to think Cor, specifically, was lying to her. Thus, what he was saying was disturbing for a multitude of reasons. Was it a coordinated effort of being absent without leave? Or…? “Please investigate this,” she reaffirmed in request. “Perhaps, if you find that Lucian leaders didn’t order retreat themselves, or something, then maybe… just maybe I can get Ravus to come home and apologize to Regis.”

Cor didn’t seem to think that was a good idea, but he didn’t speak on it. Luna could imagine many reasons why some wouldn’t think it was a good idea, so she didn’t question him at all.

Instead, he stood from his desk once more, to bow to Luna formally. “I will get on it right away, your Highness.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... surprise?
> 
> This is a lot briefer than I actually intended, but it was this or it never got done. My brain's moving ahead on me too quickly!

~*~TWO DAYS LATER~*~

There were times Ignis wondered why he was friends with Gladiolus.

Such a time included when Gladio insisted they should go to a bar for a little bit, to get Ignis’s mind off of the nonstop studying on everything that could possibly give them a leg up on the situation with the Crystal. Ignis agreed, because he did feel as though his mind was fogging up a bit, and what was a drink or two?

Gladio neglected to mention that bar was going to be at a strip club.

_Gladio_ didn’t even make a habit out of going to strip clubs, so why did he drag Ignis to one?!

Worse yet was when Ignis was approached by a young lady in what he could only fathom was the bare minimum a woman could wear, and Gladio’s laughing in the background told him he’d paid for her time to go to Ignis.

“I’m afraid I’m very poor company,” Ignis warned her, staring at his phone. “If you’d rather go to someone else, I won’t ask you to give whatever he paid you back to him.”

“I don’t mind just talking, if that’s what you prefer,” she advised, her accent much like his and Lunafreya’s, as she took a seat next to him at the bar.

He glanced over at the brunette with yellow-green eyes, doubtful. He didn’t like to stereotype, but wasn’t the sort to get that sort of job the sort who had… little else in life?

“You’re welcome to talk, if you’d like,” he permitted, looking a bit like a cornered animal. He didn’t want to take it out on her, but he was very, very unhappy with Gladio.

The brunette hummed as she folded her hands in her lap, taking on an impressively formal and demure posture. She did little to draw attention to the black and silver lingerie she was wearing. “Well, he said you’re very stressed about work,” she remarked after some thought. “Have you anything you’d like to vent about?”

“No offense, but not to you,” he answered.

“Fair enough.” Ignis was appreciative of the fact that she seemed to allow his attitude, which he couldn’t hold back, to roll off her. “This is clearly not your sort of venue.”

“That’s quite the understatement. Not that I—have anything against anyone who works here,” he said, adding that second part quickly. The girls were all very lovely to look at, but he would’ve rather met any of them in a normal place.

Like a regular bar.

Like Gladio _promised they were headed for_.

“Some men don’t like the adult nature of such a place,” she empathized. “But I promise we’re just humans.” She smiled brightly, and offered her hand to Ignis for a shake. “Hello, I’m Aia.”

That was an interesting approach that Ignis couldn’t say he’d expected. He sat up as he watched her and her hand, and then reached out to shake the offered hand gently and properly, turning her palm to the floor. The action seemed to overly charm her, and catch him off-guard again. Shaking a woman’s hand like that was often ignored even by noble women, if not maligned as an diminutive action.

“Ignis,” he said in exchange.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ignis,” Aia said warmly. She released his hand when he released hers, and folded both hers in her lap. “So, how many things would you rather be doing than be here?” she asked, smiling.

That prompted a short, surprised chuckle from Ignis. He was getting called the hell out by a young woman whose job it was to be ridiculously charming. “Perhaps not as many as I presumed, with the right conversation,” he replied.

“Might I make a few guesses?”

“By all means.” He’d heard that that sort of woman also had the impeccable skill of reading a person to accuracy from council members that indulged in such places. He never was certain he believed any of it.

“I would say you and your friend come from a wealthy standing, and hold important professions,” she said after taking a moment to look him over, head to toe. Unlike the flirtations from the start—from everyone, not just her—that time, it felt as her simply observing and taking in his appearance. “You’re very formal, so I would say your mind’s strictly on work. Perhaps you’re in law or high end business. Perhaps thinking of a big situation at work that needs your near-constant attention?”

“A rather good guess, I must say.”

“And I’m assuming you’ll not be giving me an idea of where I’m right?”

“I’m afraid not, but it’s not personal. Or—ah… related to your own profession.”

The brunette held up her hands then. “Oh, you needn’t qualify that. There’s a perception of our lips being loose, after all.” Ignis was too innocent a boy to know how much a double entendre that was. “I don’t take it personally, love.”

“Well, that’s a relief, because I very much nearly put my own foot in my mouth,” he retorted. “So—”

He was about to ask a question of genuine interest, as the girl seemed intelligent and quick-witted, which were by far more desirable traits than sex appeal, in his opinion.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance, when an incredible sound thundered through from the outside. An explosion, and that wasn’t even the shockwave he realized. By the sound of the blast, it was going to be one that was unavoidable. He stood and grabbed hold of Aia, putting himself over her, just in time for that shockwave to hit the building. It did so hard enough to blast out windows that resided high up in the rafters, and to cause some girls in perilous places—such as tables and the narrow stage—to fall. He could see Gladio managing to catch two over where he was, though others weren’t quite so lucky.

“What was that?!” Aia gasped, covering her ears and pulling herself as under Ignis as she could on her stool.

“I’m not certain,” he replied. Some glass had hit his back, though it felt as though it had mercifully avoided cutting at his skin. He hoped it wasn’t just adrenaline. He couldn’t dwell on it for too long, as a text message hit his phone. Gladio’s too, he heard, as the larger man was headed to him after setting the girls he caught on their feet.

They both paused to look at their phones. The message was from the Citadel’s emergency personnel recall system, something Regis had installed for instantaneous notification if something catastrophic happened.

‘ALERT: EXPLOSION AT THE CITADEL. LEVEL 1,’ the message read.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Ignis said quickly to Aia, not waiting for her to respond as he started for the exit, Gladio not far behind.

The Level System was to denote the urgency of the situation. Level 4 meant nothing greater than a kitchen fire. Level 1 meant that a significant portion of the Citadel, or a key and confidential part of it, was compromised due to the disaster in effect. They needed to get back ASAP.

——

Prompto Argentum hadn’t had a good week.

It started as a good week. The kindness from the Citadel and his friends went above and beyond anything he could’ve imagined for himself. The fact that the king had decided to release some military blockades, to allow for free movement within the Crown City again, had been even more awesome. He could go running and not have to worry about some new guard or glaive roughing him up, which had happened. They were always promptly punished, which he didn’t want either, though.

Then he was notified about the Order of Execution for his parents.

For a boy who always wanted nothing more than for his parents to be around more, and to love him, hearing that they would be killed for how they were was more than a little upsetting, and it took everything he had to receive that news gracefully. It left him incapable of doing much more than cry for the days that followed, once he returned home. Even the news that they had arranged for all their assets to go to him, as they should have in the first place, couldn’t help. He would’ve rather gone homeless than see someone die just because they treated him and one another poorly.

To most citizens, the new rules for execution were stringent, but they were grateful to know ‘barbarians of all sorts’ would be getting removed from society. He could understand the rapists, the _child_ rapists, the murderers… but people like his parents? Common thieves? It was too much.

Every day he was mourning, and dreading the call that they finally apprehended his parents, and had scheduled their executions. He tried to call to warn his parents but, as always, they didn’t answer his calls, and they likely automatically deleted his distressed voicemails, so all he could do was sit and wait.

All that despair was put on hold for the moment, however, when that explosion and its shockwave hit his house. His distance was one that the shockwave didn’t blow out his windows, but they still rattled hard in their frames.

He hiked outside at a run, and started to try to figure out where the explosion came from.

His answer came in the form of a pillar of light, filling the night sky as much as the sun, right where the Citadel was supposed to be. “What the hell?” the teenager muttered.

Rushing back inside, Prompto got to his phone and made an attempt to call Ignis, then Gladiolus, then Luna. None of them answered. He frowned, worried. Normally, someone would answer, or at least text to say they would call as soon as possible, but no texts came either.

The sound of shattering glass emanated from the skies, and it sent Prompto back outside to figure out what was happening. It was too loud to just be a window. Even five windows. It was loud enough that the reverberations of the sound actually rattled the house, and he’d never heard anything like it before.

Outside, he heard neighbors starting to panic, shouting at one another to get back inside. The old man across the street, who had always been rather kind to Prompto (though, with such a skewed idea of ‘kind’ in Prompto’s mind, that could have meant anything) yelled, “Child! Back indoors!” as he ushered his elderly wife into their own house.

Prompto frowned, and looked up again, and felt his entire body go cold. Shimmering gold shards were falling from the sky.

They were the remainders of the Wall, which had apparently shattered while he was inside.

That shield was the only reason Insomnia remained safe from the daemons and the Empire…

He needed to get to the Citadel. Something was _very wrong_.

——

The Citadel was in a panic. It was a good thing that Princess Lunafreya had left earlier in the day, because it was very likely that the panic would be a hundred times worse. Loyalties to the last remaining royal child were high.

The panic was severe enough that the Kingsglaive were called in, and it was just by chance that Nyx Ulric had already been in the Citadel for other business. He was called up to the foyer ahead of the throne room, while on the ground floor. The elevators were out, and seemingly all the windows blown out. Most people were struggling to hear, with some of the younger people there grabbing at their heads as their ears bled. It was all very bad.

He ran outside, to the front of the Citadel’s main entrance, and spun as he allowed a dagger to appear in his hand, to hurl it upwards and warp up for the throne room’s floor. It took two warps to get there, but he was soon dropping in through the shattered windows.

There, King Regis stood as the Marshal of the Crownsguard inspected the doors into the throne room. “What _happened_?” Nyx asked as he approached.

“Something with the Crystal,” his commander, Titus Drautos, advised as he stood nearby. “Cor,” he called. “Ulric’s here. Let us have a stab at the doors.”

Cor huffed and pulled his katana from it. “It’s definitely welded shut from whatever happened,” he advised the two while he went to Regis’s side.

“If you can get a gap, can you phase-warp through it?” Regis asked Nyx, watching him as he walked forward.

“If I can get my dagger through the opening, yeah, I can,” Nyx replied. Regis might have lost his fucking mind, but Nyx was still loyal. Something, he heard, Cor was questioning. He couldn’t say if it was true for others in the Kingsglaive, but it was because of Regis that Nyx had a way to fight for what they lost with the fall of Galadh, and that was all he cared about those days.

At the doors, he and Drautos tested what had happened quietly, though after Drautos handed him an earpiece so they could speak if Nyx was able to get inside. “Wood’s pretty hot,” he remarked, pausing the test to put the earpiece in place. “I think a hit of ice and a hell of a lot of force’ll get it open. We need to do it now, though.”

“I’ve got the ice,” Drautos replied in agreement.

They stepped back by about ten feet, moving quickly, and Drautos turned to throw out a strong blizzard cast. It crashed into the door, illuminating it briefly as the ice settled against the wood. The sudden cooldown caused audible duress in the doors’ wood and metal both.

Nyx, meanwhile, slammed into a warp. At such close range, he didn’t have much time, but he managed to turn so he slammed into the right-side door, feet first. He ended up crashing into the floor, but it was well worth it. The welded parts snapped between the temperature and the crash-landing, but it only slid the door forward by a few inches. That was all he needed, however.

“Going in!” he shouted as he righted himself. He spun immediately after and threw the dagger through the narrow slot, and warped right after it once more. It was a damn good thing warping and phasing took one out of the corporeal realm, so things like that were possible.

Landing inside in a crouch, Nyx was quick to look up, but slow to process what he was seeing.

“Ulric!” he heard his commander beckon in his ear, though to no avail.

Ahead of him, the throne room was in immaculate condition as always, which made it impossible to figure out how the hell the doors welded shut in the explosion. But more than that, up at the throne, the Crystal stood splayed with soft rays of white light, and someone sitting in the throne, unconscious. Bands of light slowly winded their way around that person, obscuring their face, but Nyx could feel in his gut who it was.

“Ulric, what’s going on?” Drautos demanded.

Nyx warped himself up to the throne’s stairway on the left, and slowly paced up for the throne. As he got closer, the hazier the light became, breaking up to show a young man that bore a striking resemblance the lost prince. He was unconscious, slumped over one of the arms of the chair, and wearing a long, black coat emblazoned with his family’s crest. He… _seemed_ to be in good physical condition, though when Nyx gently shook him at his shoulder, he didn’t wake up.

It was then that he responded to Drautos, touching the earpiece to activate it, and never tearing his eyes off of the young man.

“Get those doors open,” he directed. He thought briefly of just picking the kid up and warping down from one of the shattered windows, but what if he had some sort of spinal injury that was causing his unconsciousness? “And get the Citadel medical team up here.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Nyx looked back down to the double doors, still only slightly ajar. That was when he noticed what was causing the heat, and it wasn’t because of an explosion welding the doors shut.

Standing just in his blindspot on entry, tall and hot, was a creature he could only assume was the fire god himself: Ifrit. The Astral was massive, burning brightly, and he kicked himself for not noticing. He was just so focused on the throne, he didn’t realize that the giant had been actually holding the doors shut.

The god tilted his head, before rushing towards Nyx, who quickly slid in front of the sleeping prince and crossed his arms over his face to brace himself, and hopefully protect the royal. But then no damage came to him, and he was confused, slowly lowering his arms to look ahead.

He was met by Ifrit’s face, mere inches from him, staring at him with great scrutiny. The heat from him hurt, but Nyx stayed where he was, holding back any display of emotion he might’ve been feeling. It was a momentary encounter, ultimately, thankfully, and Ifrit was soon skirting away and leaping from the throne room, out the broken window to Nyx’s right.

With his departure, Nyx frowned, and finally focused on the fact that Drautos was demanding communication, in between ordering what Nyx said they would need.

“What’s going on, Ulric?” the commanding officer snapped.

Nyx held his frown, and looked behind him. God, what was going on?

“Sir, I think the prince has returned.”

All they could do was hope it was a good omen of things to come, too.

~*~ TO BE CONTINUED (in the next part of the series) ~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be adding this into a series of its own soon, to connect the parts.


End file.
